Cosmic Love
by Caitastrophe8499
Summary: A girl walks into a bar...and Leonard's life is turned upside down. Post Destiny, after Mick returns to say goodbye to Leonard, someone else decides to say a few words and presents a deal he's not sure he should resist. Rated T for now.
1. A falling star fell from your heart

_I own nothing._

* * *

The shouts and sounds of a full bar were the soundtrack to Leonard Snart's evening. Beer and stale peanuts covered the circular bar table he was sitting at, the seat having lost most of its cushion. How he would have preferred to be home on his own, but he had been called out tonight.

The beer in his hand wasn't doing near enough to muffle the rabble around him and his shoulders rolled up in his parka, physical barriers between him and the rest of humanity.

The music blared in the background, nearly drowning out the screech of the opposite chair as Mick Rory took the seat across from him. He stared at Leonard, something disbelieving in his eyes. Leonard waited for him to speak, but Mick just stared, gaze darting across Leonard's face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Leonard asked, suppressing his frown.

"Wasn't sure you'd make it." Mick's gaze moved around the room before returning to Leonard.

"You left me a message, I came. What of it?"

"I just wanted to talk." Of all the things Mick could have said, this was something he hadn't been expecting. "You and I, we've done a lot of thieving, a lot of cool stuff, a lot of fun." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyway, I, uh, I just wanted to make sure I said something important that wasn't left unsaid."

"Mick," he said warningly, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't do touchy-feely. If you got something to say, say it."

"This wasn't a good idea." Mick moved as if he were about to go, but then his brow furrowed and he took a deep breath. His voice was quiet, but the words were confident. "You're the best guy I ever knew. You may not think you're a hero, but you're a hero to me." He raised his eyes to Leonard, an unfamiliar fire burning in them. "You got that?"

"Yeah," Leonard answered with a frown. "I got it."

That was a lie.

"See you around." The big man got up suddenly and made to move past him, but paused. He lifted one big paw and dropped it on Leonard's shoulder. The weight seemed heavier than he remembered.

Mick squeezed his shoulder, then let go, the cold wind bursting through the door as he vanished out into the darkness.

Leonard turned slightly to watch Mick go, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Something strange was going on. Mick didn't talk. Mick didn't open up. It wasn't what they did.

Perhaps he was running a job without telling him. It would be unusual, but not unheard of. He and Mick both knew that without Leonard, jobs tended to be a bit more fatal. Leonard didn't do fatal. It was messy and denoted bad planning. He was of the mind that if people knew who did it, if they left a trail, it wasn't so much of a heist as it was a simple robbery. Leonard wasn't simple.

Still, he worried about Mick. What trouble that temper of his would get him into with Leonard there to even him out. Running through the options in his head, Leonard tried to figure which score would be enough to tempt Mick's mortality.

So engrossed in thoughts of his partner's uncharacteristic behavior, Leonard had to hold back a flinch as someone sat in the seat Mick had vacated.

"Can I help you?" Leonard drawled, his eyes casting over the woman.

"I hope so," she said. Her voice was lower than he'd expected, the raspy cadence similar to his own. Her blonde hair hung in gentle waves over her shoulders, bright against the dark blue jacket she wore.

Icy eyes met a softer turquoise as Leonard stared her down. She was attractive, but it was roughened by scars and disillusionment. There were lines around her eyes that Leonard had only seen on the faces of men his own age. This woman, years younger than him, carried the weight of decades on narrow shoulders.

"I heard you're the guy to talk to if I wanted to break and enter," she stated calmly, unfazed by his cold demeanor. She shifted in her seat, her eyes darting over his shoulder as the front door opened again. The jacket was unable to hide the faint impressions of a knife or two on this woman's waist.

He smirked coolly, "And where'd you hear that?"

"A mutual friend."

"I don't have friends."

"I'm sure Mick'll be happy to hear that." She put one elbow on the table and rested her chin on hand, signaling for a drink with the other.

Okay, so he was mildly interested now.

"You know Mick." It wasn't a question.

"We go way back." Her face was blank, revealing nothing. It wasn't bad work.

"Funny, seeing as how he's never mentioned you."

She shrugged. "He plays things pretty close to the chest."

That was true. Still suspicious, Leonard examined the woman across from him. "If I were to work with you, old friend of Mick's, what exactly would you need me for?"

"I need to break into a house. High tech security. Guards. The works." She passed the waitress a folded bill when her drink was dropped off. "I need to be in there before the end of next month."

"Why?" Leonard asked, watching her down the amber scotch without a flinch. She was trying to play him. Hard liquor, dangerous attitude, calm in the face of him and this bar. She knew what she was doing, he'd grant her.

"He took something from me. And time is a factor." For the first time since she sat down, her expression wavered and there was real grief in her eyes. It vanished almost as soon as it appeared, but he had seen it.

"Hmm," Leonard said, looking back out over the crowd. "What would my cut be?"

She bit her lip. "See, the thing I want to take from him isn't exactly...lucrative. Personal value only. However, he has quite a collection and you're welcome to any and all of it."

"I don't work for free, Blondie." Leonard threw some money down on the table for his drinks. "Could be a waste of my time."

"I promise you it isn't."

"I don't trust promises." He got to his feet.

She reached across the table, slim fingers halting before touching him, but stopping him nonetheless. "Look. I don't have enough cash to make it worthwhile. And you won't take my word that he'll have enough to more than make up for it." She was almost pleading and it stuck in his throat a little. As much as he usually enjoyed seeing people beg him for anything, this was clearly a woman of means and consequence; having to resort to begging obviously wasn't something she enjoyed. But she was doing it anyway. It made him curious enough to lean on the table again.

"That about sums it up."

"What if I work for it in advance?"

He paused and took his seat back. "How so?"

Her brows drew together. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean, what if I help you run a couple of jobs? Then, I'll have earned your help, you can still steal the house blind and make even more money back, but it won't be off of a promise. It'll be off my excellent work ethic."

The irony wasn't lost on him. "What makes you think I need an extra hand? I've got Mick."

"I'll work for free." She must have seen the interest on his face, because she leaned forward, her voice tempting, "Here's my offer: I'll work three jobs for you. For free. Then, you'll break me into this house, I'll take what I came for, and you'll never have to see me again."

The deal sounded too good to be true. And it probably was. But that wasn't what was catching his attention.

This woman was lying.

Not about everything, as far as he could tell. But something big. She was lying through her teeth and she was damned good at it. But he was better.

Most people would balk at taking a liar onto their team, but he was intrigued. And if she could lie this well, perhaps she had the kind of talents he could use.

"What skills could you bring to the table, aside from your work ethic?" he asked.

She didn't hesitate. "I've moonlighted as a thief a few times. But more often, I end up the muscle."

His brow rose higher.

"I know I don't look it. Several years of training under my belt, though."

He eyed the pale skin, crisscrossed with scars, the way she angled herself toward the door, how she tracked the few men Leonard knew were carrying weapons. She was telling the truth, about that at least. Still, he hid the appeal well. Instead of asking her to demonstrate, he asked, "Why me? There are dozens of thieves in the city. I know you say you know Mick, but I'm curious."

"You know what they say about curiosity."

"Indulge me."

She smiled faintly for the first time, and Leonard had to try very hard not to let his eyes drop to her mouth. Dangerous, baggage, and a smirk? Just his type.

"I don't need a thief," she said. "I need a master thief. So I came to you."

"I don't trust you."

"You shouldn't."

He nearly smiled. "I'm going to need a few days to think on it."

"Come on." She leaned back in her chair. "Let's cut to the chase. I could demonstrate skills, I could talk till I'm blue in the face, and you would still say no. How about we skip all that? 'Cause you're going to take my deal."

"Is that so?" His tone was arrogant, but she didn't so much as blink.

"Yup." From her coat, she pulled out a simple black billfold. "Want your wallet back?"

Leonard stared for just a moment. He didn't pat his pockets to confirm it. Now that she'd shown him, he could feel the missing weight. Then he lifted his eyes to the woman across from him and nodded. "Alright, Blondie."

She drew a piece of paper out of her pocket, a phone number already written across it. Passing him that and his wallet, she said, "Call me when you've got a job and I'll be there. Remember, the end of next month."

She pushed away from the table and walked past him.

"I don't know your name," he said, staring straight ahead.

She paused next to him and Leonard saw her fingers tighten briefly. "Sara."

He turned in his seat to face her. "Leonard."

"I know."

"I'll give you a call soon. There are a few things I might be able to use your help with, if Mick is unavailable. If I'm desperate."

"Don't sound so thrilled."

"I'm not."

She stared at him for just a moment before that carefully blank expression reappeared. Now that he had caught on to some of her tricks, he wasn't overly surprised to see her eyes still looked haunted.

"See you," she said, before wrapping her coat tighter around her shoulders and heading outside into the darkness.

Leonard watched her go, his curiosity burning. He ordered another drink and sat back, wondering if anyone else would bother him tonight.

When his drink arrived and no one had decided to join him, he pulled out the piece of paper Sara had written her number on. Then he pulled out the small money clip he'd lifted off of her, containing her ID.

He smirked, looking over the now familiar face of his temporary teammate.

"Sara Lance, huh?" he murmured. Leonard chuckled, pocketing the ID and picking up his drink.

This could be interesting.


	2. And landed in my eyes

" _The number you have dialed has a voice mail box that hasn't been set up. Please try your call again later. Thank yo-_ "

"Shit," Leonard muttered, ending the call and glaring at his phone. Fine time for Mick to go missing in action - he had a job all prepared, but it required two. In annoyance, he dropped his phone onto the wooden dresser, ignoring the solid thud.

It wasn't the first time Mick had vanished. Their partnership could be strained even at the best of times, and with the lean pickings they'd been going through lately, it definitely wasn't the best. He'd go off to Star City or upstate, incinerate a few places and come back having blown off some steam and run a few heists. Following the discussion a few days ago, he wasn't surprised Mick had dropped off the grid. Usually, Leonard didn't care too much but now-

He had a time constraint.

Belgium's Diamond Center was hosting a gala in Central City for the high and mighty. Aside from bringing a selection of its high carat namesake, they were also in the market for new clientele. Their security was good. Almost too good to make it worth it, but Leonard had a plan.

Which required _two_ people.

Normally, it was him and Mick. In rare cases, he brought Lisa in, too. She was currently out of town with a friend, not that she would have been Leonard's first choice. The job needed patience and charm. Mick barely had patience on a job and Lisa's charms didn't work well with the 1% types that would be at the gala. There were a few men he'd worked with before, but they were the obvious rough-and-tumble types that would have security on them like stink on shit. He definitely didn't want to bring in someone green to a job like this, but he was running out of options.

He tapped his finger against his dresser, too controlled to pace. Resting next to a few odds and ends was the slip of paper with Sara's number on it. He reached out, then stopped himself.

The empty bedroom stared back, blue sheets mussed from his sleepless night the evening before, his parka resting on the back of a chair in the corner, his cold gun on the seat. Outside, where the fire escape was located, he could hear faint music playing. He leaned against the wall and sighed, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

Sara Lance was a bit more than met the eye. He'd done his research this past week, trying and failing to get her out of his head. Daughter of a cop, she'd vanished a few years back after running off with some billionaire. Having read her bio, he should have written her off as more trouble than she was worth.

But he had seen her. She handled the bar scene. She's supposedly handled Mick - which was a difficult feat. She'd even held her own with him. She'd been raised in a nicer tax bracket than he had been, meaning she probably knew how to mingle.

She was trouble, no doubt. But it might be a necessary evil.

He really needed two.

Resigned, he grabbed his phone and dialed the number he'd already memorized. It rang twice before she answered.

"Hello?"

"Blondie."

There was a pause. "Leonard," she said, sounding not at all surprised. "You have a job?"

"Interesting career path for the daughter of a cop." He didn't have a choice in her, but he wouldn't let her know that.

"Well, you know what they say about the good little girls with strict parents."

"I don't, in fact."

"We take our rebellious phase to a whole new level."

He nearly smiled. "I do have a job. Research is done, just need an extra set of hands for the actual job."

"I'm pretty handy."

He stifled his chuckle. "We can meet this evening to go over the plan."

"When and where?"

"Warehouse on 5th and Mill. Nine."

"Got it. I'll be there." He heard a shuffle, as if she was writing it down. "Oh, and Leonard?"

He waited in silence.

"Bring my ID with you. And the thirty bucks."

Hanging up, he did chuckle that time.

* * *

He wouldn't call it a disaster, but Leonard hadn't entirely expected this.

Not that he hadn't expected _something_ from Sara Lance, but it hadn't been this.

"The heat detectors?" Her finger paused on a line of his notes as she looked up at him.

Leonard crossed his arms from where he was leaning against the wall. "As you undoubtedly can read, you'll see I have a way of getting past that."

"Hmm," she answered. She leaned over the map again, her eyes scanning the map and his copious notes. "Doppler radar? And your answer is to…" Sara looked up again, her eyes wide. "Seriously?"

He couldn't help his smirk. "I didn't say it was going to be easy."

"The magnetic field is simple enough, but what about the lock?" She looked back at the notes. "All you have written is 'unlock it.'"

"That's what I'm going to do."

She stared at him, then nodded once, returning to the paper. Leonard took a moment to look over his...ally.

The warehouse hadn't surprised her one bit. She'd walked in, jacket on and expression in place, without blinking twice at his setup: the wooden tables, blueprints, composition notebooks of plans and information. Her boots and jeans were functional, dark colors that blended in a way that her bright blonde ponytail didn't. The motorbike was also unsurprising, but the white paint job seemed like more upkeep than it was worth. Before she'd even said hello, she'd held out her hand for her ID and cash. Leonard had passed it over, without the apology she clearly wasn't expecting. Then they got to work.

He'd tried to just give her a brief overview, but the questions she'd asked were insightful and forced him to defend his decisions. Staring at the map, she seemed to be memorizing the convention center. He could see her eyes tracking the very escape and entry route he would have taken.

There was a tension between him and Sara that he wasn't entirely sure what to do with. He'd almost say she was interested in him, if it weren't for the complete lack of flirtation. She'd done her best not to even look at him too often. Though, a few times, he'd caught her staring, when she though he didn't notice.

But, fact was, she had tracked him down, not the other way around. If she didn't want to work with him, she should have found herself another crook.

"How will you get your supplies in?" Sara asked. "Security will be tight."

"I've already dropped it off."

She frowned, raising her eyes to him.

Leonard answered the silent question. "The gala is tomorrow. I went in two weeks ago, when there was no security, and dropped my bag. Now, we'll walk in and retrieve it."

She tried and failed not to look impressed. "How do we get out?"

"Carefully."

She snorted, then looked back over the paper. "Security guards?"

"I assumed that's why I'm bringing you." He was able to hold his own - Mick had forced him to learn some effective hand-to-hand after the first time he got his ass handed to him - but he wanted to see the cop's daughter in action.

Sara's eyes narrowed. "I won't kill security. They're just doing their job."

They were in accord, then. "Fine. Just make sure they don't make us or stop us." When she nodded, the lines smoothing out somewhat, he added, "We'll also need cover names. Don't relish the idea of everyone knowing exactly who it was."

"Thought that was half the fun. Everyone knowing it was you, but being unable to prove it." Sara leaned against the table, observing him as carefully as she had the map.

"They'll know who it was either way. But names are important. With security such as it is, it would be disappointing to be taken in because my bodyguard shouted my name."

"Bodyguard?" Sara echoed with a glance.

"Would you prefer escort?"

"How about assailant?"

He smirked. "On jobs, I'm Captain Cold."

"After your winning personality?"

He moved on. "And you'll be-"

"Canary. We'll stick with the alliteration."

"Hmm." He arched a brow, studying her carefully.

"What?"

Approaching the table, Leonard moved the papers back into order. "Interesting choice."

"Why?" Sara asked, tilting her head.

"Cop's daughter never heard of criminals ratting out their team? We call them canaries." His gaze lifted, catching hers. "Because they sing."

"I never could carry a tune," Sara retorted.

Placing his fists on the table, Leonard dropped the slightly joking tone. "Make no mistake, Lance. I may never be on the docket for homicide, but there's a reason my crew doesn't turn on me. There's a reason I'm running this town, when there are others who'll kill you as soon as look at you."

"Why?" Sara asked honestly, losing that carefully guarded expression for one of true interest. "You're one hell of a thief. But just a thief. So why are you in charge?" He didn't think it was because she didn't believe him, so Leonard indulged her.

"Because if you turn on me, if I come after you, there's nowhere you can hide. No place you can run to that I won't find. No lock I can't break. No escape I can't make. I will find you. I will find everything you care about. And I'll take it all."

She nodded. Still, in what he was coming to know as typical Sara Lance fashion, she had to make some sort of comment. "I won't turn on you. Even if I did, I've got nothing left for you to take."

Leonard studied her, realizing she truly meant that. At least, she thought she did. He looked back at the table. "Everybody's got something they care about, birdy. Most times, you just don't realize it until it's gone."

He expected another quip but was met with silence. A glance up showed that Sara had gone quite still, staring at him. Leonard was close to asking her what was wrong, but that was too close. She was a temporary complication and he didn't need something like history getting tangled up in the job.

"Any questions?" he asked, giving her an out.

Sara swallowed, her eyes dropping to the map with an effort. The shake seemed to do more to clear her head than agree, because she said, "Um, no. I mean, yes. You're handling most of this. So why do you need me?"

Eager to take the diversion, Leonard responded, "You make sure I get in and out without getting caught. Or killed."

"And how are we getting in?"

He'd been waiting for this reveal since she'd surprised him with the questions. Withdrawing two tickets, he held them for Sara. Her expression fell as she realized what they were.

He asked, "How do you do with black tie, Ms. Lance?"


	3. I screamed aloud as it tore through them

The music was playing, the drink was flowing, laugher echoed up from every crevice of the large ballroom.

And yet Leonard was annoyed.

Moving his sleeve aside for the fourth time, he checked his watch. 8:47. Exactly one minute since he'd checked last time, and yet still no Sara. She was supposed to be here by 8:45. Two minutes could mean life or death for him and she had chosen tonight of all nights, to decide that promptness wasn't her strong suit.

The whiskey ran over his tongue and down his throat smoothly, soothing everything but his temper.

"She stand you up?"

Leonard raised his brow at the bartender, placing his glass down with a muffled clink. "Excuse me?"

"Look, man, I've been a bartender long enough to know what a guy looks like when he's waiting for his girl."

"She's running late."

"Women," the bartender said.

Leonard managed a half-smirk for his benefit, though he'd known his fair share of men who'd been late as well. He didn't discriminate gender when it came to relationships, just intelligence and interest. Unfortunately, too many were lacking in one or both, so he'd cut them loose.

"Luckily, there seems to be lots of extras to go around tonight, huh?" The man grinned out at the dance floor.

Following his gaze, Leonard's halted not on the multitude of beautiful women, draped in carats and colors and conceit, but the security guards, unfazed by the action around them and focused solely on the exits and entrances.

"Lots," Leonard said despondently. He needed a distraction to get past the guards. He needed two. And he'd apparently put his trust in the wrong woman to-

"Hey."

Turning, Leonard heard the bartender's words echo in his own head, "Holy shit."

Sara had arrived.

Her hair was coiled and twisted up off her neck in a complicated pattern, with two slender and, he assumed, deadly pins. Her dress was an rich blue, accenting her pale skin and standing out boldly among the blacks, red, and pale palettes of the other women. It was tight to her waist, then flared out, shorter on one side, and giving the impression of movement even when she was standing still.

"Uber is a nightmare," she said lightly, not smiling, but friendly enough. "Sorry I'm late." Glancing past him at the drink on the table, she added, "Were you waiting long?"

Three minutes. Which for him, was an eternity. "No." Remembering their jobs, and how they would get this done, he extended his arm. "Shall we?"

She tilted her head and inhaled before taking his arm, her hand warm even though the material of his tux. Walking past the bar, Leonard saw the bartender finally close his mouth and couldn't help a smug smirk.

Too many years of living this life had made Leonard the type of man who was respected, feared, even hated, but never envied. He was admired, but he never had anything anyone wanted, other than his reputation. There were those who wanted to sleep with him, but lust and jealousy were two very different things. They wanted him, not what he had. No, Leonard was never looked upon with envy.

Tonight, he was.

With Sara on his arm, most of the men, and even some of the women, were staring daggers at him. He could see the want on their faces, the lust in their eyes as they watched him and Sara make their way around the dance floor. For once in his life, he had something people wanted.

Even more satisfying was when he turned to speak to Sara and faced her head on. She wasn't unaware of the looks, a woman who looked like that knew what she did to others, but her attention seemed reserved for him. She didn't let her gaze wander, didn't seem to cast any glances at any of her multiple admirers.

"You clean up nicely," she said, looking him up and down. "Wasn't sure you owned a tux."

"It's a rental," he answered smoothly, loosening the tightness around her eyes.

"And do they know you're renting it?"

"They will soon."

Sara smiled faintly, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and casting her eyes over the crowd. "Any wrenches, yet?"

"Not as of yet."

"Night's early."

Leonard's smile was only slightly unwilling. "Just play it how I planned it, birdy."

She nodded, sauntering off with a sway of her hips. Leonard watched her, and saw the way the heads of the crowd rippled, following her movements. One might have assumed that an especially beautiful woman would be more of a hindrance than a help. But when all eyes followed the shiny object, that left him free to do as he pleased.

As soon as Sara had engaged one of the security guards in conversation, Leonard moved.

Casually, he walked towards the bathroom. A few eyes followed him, but they didn't belong to security guards.

One inside, the farthest stall was taken. He went to the sink and washed his hands, fixing his immaculate tux to fix properly over his shoulders. The occupant of the stall left without washing his hands and Leonard smothered a sigh before taking the now empty cubicle.

The doors were of heavy wood and went from floor to ceiling, completely enclosing the stall from prying eyes without. Leonard closed the lid of the toilet and stood on top of it, lifting up one of the ceiling panels. Reaching his hand inside, he brushed paper.

He took out a duffel bag and quickly removed the items inside of it. A small cold gun, a thumb drive, wire cutters, two pairs of gloves, and other miscellany. Slipping them into pockets, he hopped off and folded the bag down to a manageable size and put it in his pocket. He washed his hands before exiting the bathroom and looking around.

He's recognized some people from around town, but there were definitely some new faces. Some billionaire from Gotham, the rich engineer Boy Scout, and a man Leonard couldn't place at all, though his accent was definitely foreign. Marking each of them, he looked around for his partner.

It didn't take much searching. Sara had found her way to a small table, sipping on a flute of champagne. There were also two untouched martinis sitting next to her, along with a older man. Technically, he didn't appear to be any older than Leonard, but the comment still stood.

The man had taken the empty seat directly next to Sara and had leaned forward, clearly trying to engage her in conversation. In her defense, Sara didn't seem to be encouraging him. In fact, she was facing past the man, focusing on her drink and doing her best to ignore him. Her body language was closed off and disinterested. Any fool could see it.

This appeared to be a very special kind of fool.

Leonard hid his sigh and approached from out of both their lines of sight, irritated and curious.

"...just saying, if your date left you alone, it's his loss."

"And you're here to pick up the scraps?" Sara asked, tipping the rest of her drink back.

"You aren't a scrap. You're Grade A, choice -"

"Don't finish that sentence," Sara warned. This time she did look at him, but it wasn't friendly. Leonard smirked and slowed his pace as he got closer, interested as to how she would handle it. Not that he wanted bloodshed this early in the evening, but he was curious.

The man blanched, but rallied. "You sitting here is a crime."

"There'll be another one if you don't leave me alone," she promised.

"A woman like you should be dancing."

"I'm waiting for the right partner."

"Well, he's arrived." The man grinned, holding out his hand as he got to his feet.

Sara stood up, "Yep." Without a hesitation, she turned and looked directly at Leonard.

She shouldn't have known he was there. He'd been silent, he hadn't drawn anyone's attention during his approach, no one had even glanced his way. And yet, she'd known.

The man behind Sara was annoyed and would have pressed his invitation again unless Leonard did something. Though Leonard was also irritated, it wasn't at her. She'd only done as he'd asked - drawn attention away from him. He was perturbed she'd been so damn successful, but he should have planned for this. Only an idiot wouldn't have noticed her sitting alone and tried to take advantage of it.

She waited, watching and gauging him to see what he would do.

Leonard held out his hand.

Her brow rose an iota - he'd managed to surprise her, finally - and she placed her hand in his.

Her warm skin rasped against his - callouses against callouses, both of them wearing the clothes of one life and the skin of another. But if there was one thing Leonard was good at, it was fitting in where he shouldn't.

Without so much as a stumble, Leonard led her toward the dance floor. There was a moment, when Sara pulled slightly away from him to head around the edge. Leonard didn't relent, pulling her into the center of the floor and turning.

They got into a waltz position, something Leonard was familiar with, though few were aware of it. Sara's movements were hesitant, so he took the lead easily. The thin silk of her dress made his grasp on her waist seem almost indecent.

"Thought you didn't dance," she murmured, glancing up through her eyelashes. It could have been flirting. It could have been playing the part of his date. It could have been real. He didn't trust any of it.

"Guess you don't know me as well as you thought." Leonard saw the way she frowned at his words, but she didn't argue. He was much more than some report she'd read on him, and he was a little tired of her acting like she knew him better than she should. She didn't. And he had no plans on allowing her to. No matter how good she felt under his fingers, or how interesting her perfume was, or how intrigued he was at the prospect of how many weapons she had beneath that dress.

She stared at him, those fathomless blue eyes seeing a lot more than she should have. What in the world had he done to get the attention of this woman? He'd racked his brain, trying to figure out which heist had gotten her to notice him, but was coming up blank. Not that he hadn't been impressive, but he was still curious as to how she'd learned of him.

"Did you get what you needed?" she asked, recovering and following his lead on the dance floor. Her hand was light in his palm, following without having to be dragged. The barest guidance. The hand resting on his shoulder was almost weightless. Her eyes glanced past him and Leonard could almost feel the way her walls went up again.

"Yes." He didn't look at her, but just over her head at security. They were calm, eyeing a few people, but none were watching him nor Sara. "You remember the plan?"

"It's not overly complicated," she said. "I think I..."

"Think isn't good enough, birdy. You-" he cut himself off, glancing down at her with a frown. Her hands had tightened on his almost painfully and her eyes were fixed on something behind him. Her moth was white around the edges and the expression on her face wasn't carefully blank so much as it was dangerously murderous.

He turned them casually, trying to see what had drawn her attention. The only thing he could see was a group of the higher ups, including the European he'd pegged earlier.

"What is it?"

Sara's jaw visibly unclenched enough to answer. "I know one of them."

"Should I be concerned?" he asked. Not for her sake, obviously, but for the job.

She didn't answer, but her neck was tight with the effort it took not to look in the man's direction. "Birdy."

"No. I can handle it."

"And him?" Leonard asked. He would have assumed he was an ex, but that wasn't the impression he was getting off of her. It wasn't anger or regret or envy, or any number of things that could be associated with an ex. All he could see on Sara's face was complete hatred.

"He's bad news."

"And the job?" Leonard murmured, turning again to gauge her reaction.

She was ready this time, her eyes darted over, but she remained in control. "It's fine."

"Are you certain?" She nodded, which wasn't confirmation enough for him. "Lance."

"Yes," she snapped. "Yes. I can handle it. The job is fine. I'm fine."

He allowed her that anger, waltzing in silence for a few moments until her eyes lost that rage and her grasp on his hands lessened slightly. Then he had to ask - for the job, he told himself. "Loathe as I am to discuss backstory, what's your deal with him?"

Sara looked up at him, her eyes regaining that haunted look, "He ruined my future."

Leonard nodded once and allowed them to lapse into silence once more.

"Ready for the cameras?" he asked after another song had ended.

"Yes. Remind me again why we have to wait until it's over?"

"Fewer people and less nerves makes sloppier security."

"Then why not break in after it's over?" she asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Breaking in is difficult. Breaking out is simple." Leonard saw their opportunity as the security guards focused on a loud drunk over in the corner of the room. "You've got four minutes." He passed her the thumb drive and clamps.

"Go ahead and time me."

"I will."

She pulled away from him on the dance floor, the tiny clutch purse on her wrist now holding a lot more than lipstick. She made her way through the crowd with smiles and pauses at the right moment, escaping into the bathroom.

Leonard watched her go, flexing his hand. It felt cold without her tiny palm resting on it.

Shaking it off, Leonard found his way to their now empty table, Sara's admirer having abandoned it. He could have gone back to the bar, could have struck up a conversation with someone, could have asked someone else to dance, but he preferred to sit on the edge and observe.

The fact that the European was at the next table had nothing to do with it.

"We are so pleased you could join us, Mr. Savage."

The European smiled engagingly and glanced around the hall, "Indeed, it is a joy to be here." His smile was thin and Leonard saw the way his eyes followed those of consequence - wealth, power, beauty - almost as if he were tracking the big names. He didn't wear any jewelry except for a stud in his tie and he appeared to be here alone. So why come to the gala at all?

Leonard turned away, avoiding the gaze of Savage. The man's smile hadn't reached his eyes - they were dark and cold. Leonard had seen a similar expression before.

He had no desire to get to know a man who reminded him of his father.

The party went on for too long. After Sara returned - within 3 minutes and 45 seconds - they drank, ate, and listened to the presentation from the Diamond Center. The two of them barely spoke at all. It had to be the most taciturn heist he'd ever run, and that included every one he'd worked with Mick. Sara had no desire to talk to him and, taking the lead from her, he remained quiet as well. The only time they conversed was when someone else approached, interested in borrowing either Sara or Leonard for a dance. Then, they feigned enough interest in one another to deter others. A smile, a brush of a hand across her shoulder, and a glare was enough to send admirers packing. It became more and more difficult as the night went on. By the time the speeches were done, half the guests were toasted and the others were almost there.

The two of them had found a small table off to the side. Not so out of sight so as to appear suspicious, but enough to keep both of them out of the limelight. He had to admit, he was a little annoyed. He enjoyed being a thief because it was fun and exciting. Usually, his partners shared his enthusiasm, but Sara was so closed off.

"We'd like to thank you for a successful evening and invite you back tomorrow to speak with one of our qualified consultants!"

The comment was met with classy groans and moans from the group. Leonard leaned over to Sara, passing her the purse she'd left on the table. "Almost time."

"I'm ready." She took the bag from him.

They joined the crowd heading toward the exit, Leonard keeping his hand hovering over the small of Sara's back. Not enough to touch, but enough to deter an admirer from inviting her out afterwards.

"Three, two, one," Leonard murmured in her ear. He heard the faintest click from Sara's purse. "Two minutes and counting."

They shuffled through the crowd, heading towards the back. Sara split away from him and beelined towards a security guard. She pointed out an especially drunken man, who was pawing at his apparently unwilling date. The security guard moved towards the couple, leaving Leonard and Sara free to escape through the side door he had been guarding.

In tandem, they jogged up the back stairwell to the seventh floor, pulling on a pair of gloves as they did so. Leonard slid a pre-programmed card through the security panel and it unlocked. As it shut behind them, both of them breathed a sigh of relief. According to the plans, there would be no security guards or cameras up here, as the technical security and anonymity was all that mattered.

Leonard looked ahead, seeing the plain hallway. Sara took one step forward.

"Stop," he ordered. He grabbed the cold gun out of the back of his suit pants. It wasn't _his_ gun, but a smaller replica he had made after taking his own apart so many times. It didn't do cold, but it did something just as important this evening.

Taking a half second to glance at his ally, he was a little unnerved to see Sara staring at his gun with a frown. She shook her head and faced forward, so he pushed it aside.

Aiming the gun at the hallway, the lights of the heat detectors appeared. "Remember," he began to say, "I'm going to confuse the detectors by shining light on them, but-"

"The delay is only for three seconds," Sara finished. "Get through and turn it off. I know the plan. Don't patronize me, Captain." She knotted up her dress at her waist, revealing toned legs and two sheaths on her thighs.

Leonard distracted himself, "Don't fuck it up, birdy."

She snorted at that, a smile finally appearing on her face. "Just go." Bracing herself, she waited, just outside the range of the heat detectors.

The gun fired up with a familiar whirr, and Leonard aimed it at the first group of sensors, confusing them long enough for Sara to move through. They had a steady pace - her movements tracked by his gun - though the end would get more complicated. He couldn't quite reach the last sensor, but Sara had told him not to worry about it.

As she got closer, she said, "Speed up."

"Birdy-"

"Do it."

He did, moving faster and keeping time with her increasing movement, a jog, then a run, then a sprint, just before the last sensor that he couldn't reach-

Sara sprang forward on her hands and flipped over it, the knot keeping her dress from dragging through the beam. With a perfect ten point landing, and in heels, he had to admit he was slightly impressed. She went to the control panel and typed in the code he'd given her, powering the sensors down for "maintenance."

Leonard pocketed his gun and walked through the beams. "We've got about twenty minutes before we have to leave. Maintenance crews receive a code that changes every twenty minutes to plug in, and if they don't, it turns back on."

Taking the duffel bag, Sara fell into step with him. Curiously, she seemed to be more comfortable now than she had been all evening. It felt more like their first meeting in the bar or the prep meeting at the warehouse. Easier, somehow.

Which was ridiculous. Who would feel more comfortable on a heist than at a dance, other than someone like him?


	4. and now it's left me blind

_I know I'm messing with the timeline on this story. I.E.: Snart doesn't get his cold gun until 2014, and his conversation with Mick happens in 2013. I could argue that in my head, it's very late 2013, and Cisco could have developed the cold gun...and it could have been stolen, already..._ _Instead, I'm going to claim author's privilege here._

 _Also, Savage is still alive at this moment, because this is in the past for the Legends. If Oliver, Barry, and the others don't fight him pre-Legends, all sorts of things go to shit. So this is a paradox correcting sort of story. Yes, Savage is dead for the LEgends in their timeline, but since this is pre-Legends-timeline, he's still alive and kicking._ _I hope that clears a few things up, or at least gets people to stop pointing out things they don't think I'm aware of._

 _If Barry can change the timeline left and right, I'm going to do it, too._

 _Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Five minutes and 30 seconds later, Leonard was leaning against the wall, breathing in deeply through his nose.

"That was a stupid idea," Sara panted from next to him.

"It worked." He straightened up, checking his watch. "Let's go. We're almost there."

He strode off down the hallway, leaving the radar and magnetic field behind them. Sara pulled the duffel bag over her shoulder as Leonard led them to the combination lock.

The lock was capable of over a million possible combinations. It wasn't high tech - which meant he couldn't hack it like he had the cameras, and it wasn't electronic - which means he couldn't confuse it like he had the lasers and magnetic field. No, this was old fashioned safe cracking, and Leonard was looking forward to it.

"Go back and keep watch," Leonard said.

Sara hesitated. "Clock's ticking."

"I'm aware. Go."

He felt the glare she leveled at the back of his head, but heard her receding footsteps. Pulling out his phone, Leonard pressed his ear to the safe and began.

Lock manipulation wasn't all it was cracked up to be in the movies. It required patience, keen senses, and time. Leonard had the first two in spades. But he wasn't going to let the third one bother him.

Very faintly, he could hear Sara breathing by the corner, but he'd pushed that out of his head as he graphed the first five numbers. It seemed to be taking forever, but this was the moment of utmost importance.

Soon, Leonard was working his way through the combinations and got lucky. On the second try, the lock clicked open.  
Turning the handle, Leonard swung the door open and stared inside the formerly thief-proof safe With a sense of accomplishment.

"Birdy," he called, unable to help his smirk.

The click of her heels hesitated as they got closer. "Holy shit," she breathed.

He could agree. Millions of dollars worth of diamonds lined the room, winking and glittering and tempting. Taking the bag from her limp hands, he threw it onto the table in the center of the room and began pulling out black, velvet lined trays. The loose stones were the first, followed by the generic bands ringed with diamonds.

"Avoid the custom stuff," Leonard said, as Sara began to mimic him. "Harder to fence."

"And anything with a serial number," she added. "I remember."

Leonard nodded, then paused, looking back at her. "How'd you know that?"

She continued working, the gentle ringing of stones the only sound, other than her voice, totally guileless. "You told me."

"No, I didn't." He glared at her over his shoulder, still working.

"Yes, you-" Sara cut herself off, her movements halting for a second. "I must have heard it somewhere else, then."

He didn't buy that. And she clearly didn't mean it. "What's your game here, birdy? You seem to know an awful lot about me and my business."

"I told you, I need to take something. And you're the best crook. I did my research."

"Take something from whom, exactly?"

"Thought you didn't discuss backstory," she retorted, grabbing another tray and dumping it in.

Something about the way she said it… "Does this have something to do with Savage?"

Her hand jerked, knocking an empty tray to the ground. That was a yes. Blue eyes darted up to him, angry and wary. "What do you know about him? You know what, forget it. I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine by me, because I'm not going to help you."

Sara took a step forward, "What?"

"Man like that has more than security and guards. He's got connections and power. He's untouchable."

"I thought you were the best crook in town."

"That's because I'm not suicidal. Not risking my neck for you."

"You took my deal!"

Leonard scoffed, "I'm a criminal. If you wanted honesty and reliability, you should have tried a cop."

"But you said-"

"I said a lot of things, birdy." He shoved another tray of jewels into the bag. "Maybe you should find yourself another crook."

"Maybe I should," Sara snapped at him, her glare speaking volumes. "I can't believe I thought-"

"Save your breath," he cut off insults. "Deal's over. Get running."

Sara stared at him, her mouth hanging open. There was something more than anger in her eyes - something that almost looked like hurt. She shouldn't be hurt. Not by him, they barely knew one another. Ending this before something bad happened, Leonard leaned across the table, a sneer on his face.

"Fly, birdy."

"You aren't who I thought you were." Sara turned on her heel and left the room.

Leonard stared after her, until the click of his watch made him remember his time limit. Grabbing two more trays, he dumped them in and zipped it up.

He wasn't surprised at how easily it was to persuade her. She could handle this, certainly, but it wasn't her life. Stealing wasn't her job. And Leonard wasn't her friend.

He'd called it at the beginning. Too good to be true. He should have known this deal wouldn't pan out.

Grabbing the bag, he hauled it out into the open chamber. Jewels tinkled musically from his bag, but it was muffled in the hum of the air conditioning. There was no sign of Sara.

He had only taken a few steps past the magnetic field when he heard voices up ahead, from just beyond the corner where the stairwell was located.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing to the left and right. In his head, he tried to call up the schematics of the plan. If he remembered correctly, there was a small maintenance corridor - nothing more than a closet. Luckily, there was just him.

He pulled a panel out of the wall, grabbing the knob within and pulling it open. Sliding inside the panel, he slipped within the dark corner, pulling the door closed behind him but for a single crack.

Four sets of footsteps approached him, their voices loud and unconcerned.

"...overplayed the security on this, huh?"

"Thought it was supposed to be hard to get in here."

For a moment, Leonard's thoughts darted to Sara. She would have passed them on her way out. He had no time to worry about her just yet - or ever. Their deal was over.

"Yeah, well...when you work with Savage-"

Savage? Leonard nearly spoke aloud. Biting his tongue, he listened until the footsteps had faded enough to be in the vault.

"Geez, come check this out!"

Leonard peered at his watch - he had less than three minutes before his maintenance code would wear out and the alarms would be set off anyway. But if he went now, he'd risk being seen and/or getting shot.

His watch ticked on.

With a whispered curse, Leonard slid open the door and ran. The long hallway would give him almost no cover until the stairwell, but if he could get there without being seen...

He got fifteen steps down the hallway before he heard-

"Over there!"

Leonard swore, hearing one shout out at him. They were coming after him. He could hear the faint click of a gun being cocked back and flinched. He began to zigzag, hugging the walls and moving randomly to make himself less of a target. Still, when the first bullet cracked out of the muzzle, he jumped, but knew enough not to look back.

It didn't come anywhere near him. Shouts and more bullets fired off, but none so much as ricocheted in his direction. Breaking his rule about gunplay, Leonard glanced back. And immediately stopped, his jaw hanging open.

Sara had engaged his pursuers, the needles in her hands and her hair spilling over her shoulders. An open panel to the right - the mirror of the one he'd hidden in - told him where she had been. She hadn't left. She'd kept an eye on him.

One thief was on the floor already and another went down as he watched, a needle through his eye. From the screaming, he was still alive, but then Sara stamped down and the sounds ended.

The third one got off another shot and Sara flinched before throwing the needle. It sliced across his arm and he dropped the gun. Sara grabbed it, then slammed it down upon his temple, knocking him unconscious and taking down the other with the unmoving body. She grabbed both of her needles and turned towards Leonard.

"What are you waiting for, crook?" she snapped, stalking towards him. "Go."

Leonard was unable to move until Sara was nearly on top of him. Only when she reached out as if to push him did he finally move.

"You were supposed to run," Leonard said, falling into step beside her.

"Unlike some, I keep my end of a bargain." She took the lead, the needles glimmering and bloodstained in her fingers. With her free hand, she reached into her bag and pressed the button to reset the cameras. Two minutes to get out without being seen and they were home free. "Now move." She shoved open the door of the stairwell, peering down.

As he passed close by, he saw a red smear on her side, just above her hip. "Birdy-"

She followed his gaze, and shifted, hiding the blood. "Clock's ticking."

Leonard frowned, but continued in her wake.

Only one person had ever stepped up to take a beating he'd deserved. That was Mick - and it wasn't often a beating, as Mick usually could handle anyone who came after either of them. Lisa he'd had trained from an early age to take advantage of his beatings to get out of the house. And his mother, for the short time she'd been around, had turned a dull eye to his pain.  
Sara didn't know him. Didn't even like him, obviously. She had no reason to stick around after he'd told her to go. And yet, here she was. Bloodied, because of him. For him. No one did that. Not for someone like him.

* * *

The walk back to the warehouse was nearly silent. After the excitement of the heist, the escape was almost dull in comparison. They slipped out a back stairwell, avoided the guards who were more focused on people breaking in rather than out, and stepped into the cool night air. Rain started to sprinkle down, slicking the edges of Leonard's tux and making the duffel bag seem all the heavier. Despite the patter of raindrops, one sound seemed to be even louder.

The steady drip of blood onto the pavement.

It hadn't begun until they were six blocks from the gala, so leaving evidence wasn't really a concern. So why then the uncomfortable feeling in his chest?

Not a word was spoken until they arrived at the warehouse on foot, though Sara had stripped off her gloves and passed them and the needles to him. He'd tucked them into the duffel bag, choosing not to think about how they left a red stain on his fingers.

Once they got to the warehouse, Leonard put the bag on the table. Usually, he'd immediately begin going through the score, figuring out what he would fence now, what would have to wait, and what he would keep for his own. This time, however, he found himself distracted.

"Let's get that cleaned up," Leonard said, shrugging out of his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt.

"I can take care of it," Sara argued. She pressed her hand to her side and made a face. Her skin, already pale, was whiter than snow.

Ignoring her comment, Leonard approached, looking at the wound. "Through and through?"

Sara shook her head, peering down. "No. Still in there, I think." She winced as Leonard pulled slightly to see the depth of the injury. "Good, right? No evidence at the scene."

"Go lean on the table. Don't sit down." Leonard went to the small set of bags he had put there before the job. One was a change of clothes - he would change after he got these ones all bloodied up. The other was a bag of things he might need, like equipment for his gun, tools, and medical supplies.

Her comment was true - it was good the bullet wasn't lodged somewhere in the Center. But he found he didn't feel relieved.

Sara kicked off the high heels and leaned against the table. Her face was set, though he knew she was in pain, and she watched him with narrowed eyes.

"I can get this taken care of," Sara said.

Leonard pulled out tweezers, gauze, thread, and a needle, along with a small knife. "Can't go to the hospital. You'd be questioned. Could get us caught."

"Can't have that." Her tone was acerbic.

"How attached are you to the dress?" Leonard asked, picking up the knife.

She glanced down at the drenched and bloodied fabric. "Less so now."

"Glad to hear it." He carefully cut around the gunshot, revealing skin that was more scarred than he'd anticipated. Blood oozed out of the wound, but the bullet didn't seem to be in very deep. In fact, he could see it. Didn't mean it wouldn't hurt like hell, though.

He grabbed a bottle out of his bag and passed it to her. "Drink up."

Sara chuckled humorlessly, pulling off the cap and tipping the vodka back into her mouth. After taking three big swallows, she wiped her lips clean with the back of her hand. She handed the bottle back to him and Leonard took one quick swig to steady his hands.

"All right, doc," Sara bared her teeth in a tight smile, gripping the edge of the table. "Have at it."

He worked as quickly as he could and Sara was a good a patient as any. Only a few small sounds escaped, though she never so much as flinched. The bullet came out without too much fuss and he was able to stitch her up.

"Missed everything important," Leonard said.

"There's a first," Sara muttered. Her eyes were half-lidded from the pain and the drink.

Multi-tasking, he examined the scars he could see on her side and stomach. One especially puckered one near her navel was the most gruesome. "What happened there?"

"Someone tried to kill me."

Leonard's eyes darted up to hers, testing her sincerity. She was looking down and to the side, her hand unzipping the duffel bag. Leonard had half his attention on her and half on the wound.

She reached in, grabbing her needles and putting them down on the table. Then she picked out a single stone. Despite the name, there had been other precious jewels at the Diamond Center. The one she grabbed was a small, pale sapphire. Imperfect and not worth much.

Leonard tied off the stitches and put some gauze over the wound, taping it down. He took a step back as Sara continued to stare at the stone.

Several different things pushed at Leonard's mind as he watched her. Thanking her, as difficult as it was, was forefront in his mind. Apologizing, a distant second. He went with the third.

"Why didn't you leave?"

Sara glanced up at his question, her eyes shuttered, but still alert. Everything that was unsaid in his question - Why did she help him? Why did she care? What did she really want? - hung in the air between them.

She stared at him for a long moment. "We had a deal."

"I broke it."

"So?" Sara rolled the stone in her fingers. "I said I would get you in and get you out safely." She glanced down at the sapphire. "Even if you don't want to keep going, I said I'd do the job. So I did." Without another look at him, she dropped the sapphire into the bag and pushed off against the table. "Mission accomplished."

She grabbed the bag she'd stored and walked towards the back, where a small bathroom was located. Leonard heard the sounds of her changing, but found his attention riveted by the sapphire. Perhaps she was telling the truth, but there seemed to be more of it. Perhaps she was playing him a different way, now that he had decided not to follow through. But if that were the case, he couldn't justify her getting shot. It didn't make sense to him. He stared at the stone longer than he'd meant to, his mind racing, because the next thing he heard was-

"I'm off."

Leonard looked up finally. Sara was back in jeans and pulling a jacket over her shoulders. Her hair was down, lying in tangles over her shoulders, and her walk was a little off - the wound tugging at her side. A bag over her shoulder, she approached him, her eyes still closed off.

She stuck out her hand as she got close, "Nice working with you."

Leonard took it, shaking her rough hand. Unlike his, hers was no longer bloodied. "You, too."

She waited for a moment, then nodded and pulled her hand away. "See you around."

Her boots tapped on the ground as she headed towards the door. No mention of taking a cut, no mention of their deal, nothing at all. No attempting to reason with him to continue with her, no anger at the fact they were done. Just the end of whatever this was. Leonard continued to stare at the sapphire.

...dammit.

"Thursday," he called, not turning around.

"What?"

He continued to stare at the bag. "Come back Thursday. I'll have another job."

"Why?"

Leonard knew what she meant, but played it off with a smirk as he turned. "Breaking into Savage's house might be insane, but if you go find another thief to do it, my reputation will suffer."

For the first time since he'd met her, Sara smiled. A true, honest, beautifully wicked smile. "Can't have that." She looked at him for a second, searching for something in his face. Then she nodded. "I'll see you Thursday, crook."

As he watched her leave, shot and smirking, Leonard knew he was in trouble.


	5. The stars, the moon, they have all been

"What's got you in such a good mood?"

Leonard looked up from the book he was reading as Lisa slumped onto the couch next to him. "I'm not." The afternoon was already half gone, but Lisa was just getting up. She hadn't gotten in until late last night, five nights after the Diamond Center job. Today was Thursday and he'd spent most of it in a good book, waiting for Lisa to wake up.

"You're not nearly as grumpy as usual. Mick's out of town and I just got back, so what shenanigans could you get up to all alone?" She grabbed the remote and turned on the television, half her attention already on the screen.

"Did some reading."

"You're so boring, Lenny."

Leonard turned to her, his brow arched. "Entertainment isn't in my job description as your brother. How was your trip?"

With a weary sigh, Lisa rolled her eyes. "Uneventful. We went out dancing and drinking every night, but there was no action. Star City is such a buzzkill, with that stupid vigilante running around. Everyone's worried that if they step out of line, they get killed." She perked up, "One night, it looked like some guy was trying to follow us-"

Leonard frowned, her glib tone not reassuring.

"-but he wasn't. In all, a real disappointment."

"I can't tell you how disappointed I am for you," Leonard deadpanned, turning back to his book. "But now you're back, and will be wreaking havoc here before the week's out, I'm sure."

"Count on it," she snickered and turned her attention to the television completely, flipping through to the news.

" _...still unclear as to how the thieves entered, as the Center's security was infamous. Though it was estimated that the thieves got away with over $100 million dollars in diamonds and other jewelry, it has since been announced that it was closer to $189 million. Without leads or witnesses, they are calling this the heist of the century."_

Lisa looked over at Leonard, who'd raised his eyes to the screen.

"Lenny?"

He just smirked slightly.

"Oh my god!" Lisa shrieked, punching him in the arm. "I can't believe you went after the Center!" Her glee morphed into annoyance. "And without me? What the hell?"

He put his book to the side. "You were out of town. I had to work with what I had."

"A hundred and ninety million?!"

"There was another group in there, using my openings to get through. Best guess from the first few surveys, I probably made out with a little over $100 million." Which was more than fine by him. The money wasn't nearly as satisfying as the job itself.

That didn't diminish the amazement in Lisa's eyes. "The Diamond Center, Lenny. I can't believe you pulled it off. And alone!"

"Not entirely alone."

"Mick's back?"

"No."

Her mouth fell open. "You brought in some greenie? To this?"

"She isn't green. She's-"

"She?" Lisa repeated, her eyes dancing wickedly. "And exactly who is _she_?"

"A client. Nothing more."

Lisa sat back, her mouth still turned up into a grin, but confusion in her eyes. "You don't take clients on jobs."

"She isn't exactly a regular client. She's had some training."

"Is she any good?"

Leonard recalled the way Sara had moved, taking down the men with a few well-placed hits. Knowing exactly where to be and when, so much so that it looked like she was reading their minds. He remembered how she'd taken the hit and kept on going, making sure he could get out, holding up her end of the deal. "Yeah."

Lisa moved on quickly, the idea of her brother finding a new coworker paling in comparison to the idea of money. "We need to celebrate. We should go out. Get drinks or something. I can't believe you did it!"

He chuckled, Lisa's joy and amazement ranking up there with the thrill of the job. "And drinks are on me, I assume?"

A shrill ringing from Lisa's room made them both look over. "For the next two years, they are!" Lisa jumped to her feet and went to grab her phone.

Leonard smiled, happy to see Lisa so pleased. He checked his own phone as he heard Lisa talking quietly in her room, seeing a text from Sara.

 **S: What time tonight?**

 **L: 9.**

 **S: Looking forward to it, crook.**

"Lenny?"

He wiped the faint smile off his face and returned the phone to his pocket. "Yeah?"

"I can't go out tonight. Raincheck?" She was holding the phone to her shoulder and her grin was still there.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, something just came up. Friends want me to meet them." Lisa's shrug was confident and easy. And a lie. "That cool?"

Leonard wasn't Lisa's father, thank god. He took care of her when he could, but she was a grown woman and could take care of herself. She deserved her own secrets, just like Leonard did. "Sure. Another night."

Lisa grinned at him and vanished into her room, her excited tone spilling through the wood even if her words didn't. Leonard pushed away the sense of unease and returned to his book, the prospect of a quiet afternoon appealing to him.

A few minutes later, Lisa bounded out of her room, dropping a smear of lipstick onto his cheek. "You're the best."

"Be safe."

Lisa laughed, squeezing his shoulder. "Try not to have too much fun without me." She left the apartment, the faint scent of her perfume the only thing left.

His sister could be a whirlwind of energy, but it was nice having her home. The apartment always seemed a little duller without her in it. That being said, he enjoyed having time to himself, too.

After wiling away the hours with his book, Leonard left his apartment around 7:30. It took a little under an hour to walk to the warehouse, but the night was cool and clear and he enjoyed the quiet. Hands in his pockets and his bag over his shoulder, Leonard strolled down the empty streets, not many people wandering around in this area of town other than him. The few that did see him looked the other way.

Turning the corner, he was startled to see a faint glow from inside the warehouse. Most of the windows were blocked by heavy fabric, but some light still made it through. Someone was already there. The jewels were carefully hidden away in another location, but this was _his_ place. He grabbed the holster of his gun, but didn't draw it yet.

Approaching silently, he edged up to the heavy doors, the heavy padlock hanging open and useless on the chain, pushing the left one open slightly. The right one creaked when it was opened, but the left was nearly silent.

As soon as he saw the motorcycle parked just inside, he knew it was only Sara. Still, he hadn't expected to see her here so early. Nor did he expect to see -

Whatever it was that she was doing.

She'd shed her jacket and music was playing off of the phone on the table. Something loud, but with a persistent beat. Wielding a bo staff, she spun it around her hands and body, thrusting it toward invisible opponents in tempo with the music. Every note, half note, sixteenth note, saw another hit land. The staff moved like an extension of her body, always right where she needed it to be, whether it was behind her, to the side, or in front. It never tangled her up, despite the length and weight, despite her constant movement.

Her fighting in the Center had looked like dancing. Now he knew why.

Knowing it was a miracle she hadn't already spotted him, Leonard pushed his way into the building. He didn't announce himself, but she saw him and stopped, breathing slightly heavier as she turned off her music.

"You're early," she commented by way of greeting.

"Not that early, apparently."

She shrugged, tossing her phone onto her bag and grabbing a bottle of water. "My place isn't exactly conducive towards training."

"And what are you training for?" Leonard asked, walking towards the table.

Sara grinned, leaning against her staff. "Whatever trouble you get me into next."

The smile and easy banter threw him a little. He'd been expecting the taciturn fighter from the Center. Instead, he was met with smirks and snark.

It wasn't entirely unagreeable.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, unpacking his bag and laying out some plans. That hadn't been what he'd meant to ask, but it'd slipped out all the same.

Leaning the staff on the wall, she stretched. He could only see the faintest lack of mobility on her injured side. "Like a million bucks. Or 190 million."

"Caught that, did you?"

She smiled. "Not often I make the news."

"I find that hard to believe."

With a laugh, Sara leaned on the table. "So, what's next?"

With that opening, Leonard walked her through what he had so far on their next heist. It was an art gallery this time, as opposed to jewels. Several paintings were on loan from various museums in and out of the country, giving him a rare opportunity to become internationally recognized.

"We'll have to go through tomorrow and case it out in person," Leonard explained. "They aren't releasing too much online due to the security risk."

Sara nodded. "What time?"

"It opens at two and there's a guided tour at 2:30. We should be a part of it." He stared down at the paper, wondering if there was anything else. "That's all I've got right now. Nothing else can be done until I actually see the placement and product."

"And security."

"Exactly."

Sara didn't seem inclined to leave just then. "So $190 million isn't enough for you?"

He smirked slightly. "If I was just in this for the money, I'd go for easier targets."

"So why are you in it, then?" she asked, staring at him. "Why do you go for the pretty jewels and the artwork over cold, hard cash?" Her expression was still slightly closed off, but it was more open and inviting than he had seen it before. It made him answer more honestly than he probably should have.

"The world is full of dark and bad. I'm just trying to get something good out of it." He shrugged, "And if I can make some money off of it, so much the better."

She grinned, "The fame has nothing to do with it?"

"Doesn't hurt."

Her chuckle was low, drawing his gaze to her mouth and he stood up straighter, taking a step back before he did something he regretted. "We'll meet here tomorrow at 1:30."

"You've got it." She pulled her jacket on and threw her bag over her shoulder. They walked out together, Sara pushing her bike out the door as Leonard locked it.

"How'd you get in, by the way?" Leonard asked, the heavy metal padlock one of the best he could find.

Sara smirked, "Picked the lock."

Though that was the only possible answer, he shook his head. "You're full of surprises, Lance."

"You've got no idea." She got on top of the bike. "Want a ride?"

He pushed aside the comment she clearly didn't mean to invite, and shook his head. "I'll walk, thanks."

"See you tomorrow."

"Night."

She sped off, the engine loud in the darkness but vanishing quickly. On habit, Leonard marked the direction she'd gone - east, already trying to figure out where she was staying. Pushing instinct aside, he started the long walk home.

Though he found he enjoyed this new Sara's company more, he wasn't about to take it without a grain of salt. A pretty girl like her knew how to play people and since she didn't get what she wanted one way, she was trying a new approach. It was far more effective, he had to grant her. The changed attitude combined with the difficulty of the job were all designed to make it more appealing to him, and it didn't mean he wouldn't do it. But he also knew this was just another game, and Leonard hated to lose.

He could enjoy it while it lasted, though.

No, he was prepared for whatever Sara Lance threw at him. In fact, the only thing he was still having trouble reconciling with her new attitude was the fact she'd stayed and gotten hurt for him. She couldn't have known they would come and she wouldn't have fought and gotten hurt over him if she didn't have something to gain. She said she'd just been keeping her word, but no one got shot for someone they barely knew, just because of an agreement. That was the only wrinkle he couldn't quite figure out just yet, but he was working on it.

When he got home, Lisa was still out. Unconcerned - she'd have called if there was trouble - he went to bed and his dreams were full of dancing, bloody sapphires.

* * *

Leonard wasn't an overly cheery person. He didn't consider himself a pessimist, either. He was a realist. One of the few left in the world. Living his life, in this city, with his occupation, there was little else he could be.

Yet today, he had a hard time keeping the smile off his face.

He and Sara had entered the art gallery the next day and she had drawn up short at the threshold.

"Sonufabitch," she muttered.

"What?" Leonard glanced down at her, the dress and demure sweater so different from her usual jeans and boots, presenting her as a happy little housewife.

Her smile was tight, but she spoke through her teeth. "You didn't tell me this was a _modern_ art exhibit."

"Is that a problem?" He peered down at her through the glasses he'd chosen to wear. Between his plaid button-up and her white wedges, they looked like the typical wasp couple.

"Yeah, if you have any taste in art."

From that promising beginning, as they examined each and every painting and Leonard read the details from the pamphlet, Sara kept a running commentary that he found hard to disagree with, though he tried his best.

"Richter's Red Mirror," Leonard said, gesturing to the first painting.

Sara cocked her head at the mirror, stained with a slight red tinge. "Is this some sort of Shining reference?"

"Went for $750,000."

"People will buy anything, won't they?"

She approached the next one, glancing back at him with a frown. "Did they forget this one?"

"This is from the Museum of Non-Visible Art," Leonard read.

"No."

"They have the entire collection here," he added, not bothering to hide his smirk.

Sara glanced around as the other tourists oohhed and ahhed the piece. "Are you shitting me?" She leaned closer to Leonard, "Is everyone here crazy?"

Staring at the blank frame that was worth more than $10,000, Leonard muttered, "That's what suburban life will do to you."

"Thank god I don't have to worry about that," Sara retorted, moving onto the next one. "What's this one?"

"Onement Vi."

"It's a fucking white line."

"$43 million."

She stared at him, then shook her head. "I feel almost guilty stealing from them, since they've already been ripped off. But if they're this stupid…" Sara smiled widely as two women approached the canvas, inching up behind them as they commented.

"Oh, I've always loved Newman's work," one said.

"It really speaks to me," said the other.

"It's just so...so…"

"Transcendental," Sara supplied, with enough sarcasm so that Leonard caught it and grinned, but the women rapturously agreed, their eyes shining.

"Exactly."

"That describes it perfectly."

Sara nodded sagely, before returning to Leonard's side, her smile still in place. "We need to go, before I hit someone."

"Just a few more."

She rolled her eyes, but kept pace with him, even keeping the comments to a minimum, until they got to the last one.

Sara stared at it for a long moment, Leonard was concerned she actually liked it.

She turned to him, "This is crap. He dipped his penis in paint and just went to town on the canvas."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You may be right. However…"

"Just tell me."

"$63 million."

"Fucking hell." She looked at it again before shaking her head. Falling into step with Leonard as they left, she tucked her arm through his without prompting, both of them more comfortable with it, smiling at the other potential art buyers. "These people are idiots."

"Luckily for us, not very well secured idiots," he murmured, glancing at the standard cameras and rent-a-cops.

"What's it going to be?" Sara asked, smiling directly at a security guard. "Line or penis?"

"Both," Leonard answered, nodding at the owner with a smirk.

"Of course."

Disparaging the paintings kept them occupied all the way back to the warehouse, the taxi dropping them off about three blocks away, in front of a restaurant. They walked the rest of the way and Leonard found himself enjoying Sara's sharp wit and sarcasm.

Once they were back, both he and Sara changed before leaning over the maps. Though there hadn't been any cameras allowed, Sara had managed to sneak a few pictures of the glass and security on the paintings themselves.

"If we can get in here," Leonard said, pointing out the vent, "we should be all right. It'll just be a matter of getting the painting out without-"

Sara, who had been paying rapt attention, suddenly froze. "Someone's-"

"Nice place."

Leonard spun at the voice, unheard for years, but familiar enough from his childhood and his nightmares. "Dad."

Lewis Snart, in the cruel, sadistic flesh. Flanked by four goons, he looked just as Leonard remembered him - arrogant and monstrous.

Leonard's hand was already on his gun, but he didn't draw it, not yet. Lewis walked in, staring at Leonard with those dark, cold eyes. The most recent years in prison had left him leaner and colder, like a stray dog who'd been kicked too many times. Hungry and dangerous.

"You know, it's something." Lewis sneered, shaking his head at Leonard as he walked nearer. "You get out of prison, and your own son isn't there to bring you home."

"You're in and out so often, I lose track," Leonard retorted, keeping his voice level. "And it isn't your home any longer."

"You always were an ungrateful asshole," Lewis said calmly, the insults slipping past his lips far easier than any sort of kindness.

Leonard was unfazed, having heard far worse at far more influential times in his life. Sara, however, was not. She moved, reaching for her belt.

"Canary," Leonard's voice cracked out like a whip, stopping her in her tracks.

"Good move, boy," Lewis muttered, glaring at Sara. "New crew of yours?"

"Yes." Leonard edged closer to Sara without looking like it. "Mick's out of town."

Lewis looked Sara up and down, the look on his face hardly impressed. "You should cut her loose. She's got a temper. One of those progressives." He spat on the floor. "I hate strong women."

"Weak men always do," Sara retorted. From his position, Leonard could see her tight grip on the knife at her back. From his experience, he knew that if she threw it, it would find the mark.

Lewis glared at her, "Watch your mouth, bitch."

"Call me a bitch one more time." Sara's smile was crueler than Leonard had ever seen. For the first moment since meeting her, he wondered exactly how dangerous this woman was. She'd called herself a fighter, and he'd seen her skills, but this was something knew. It was the sort of smile he'd seen on the faces of killers.

Stepping between the two of them, Leonard's eyes on Sara even as he said, "Shut up, Lewis."

She held the blade so tightly her knuckles were white and she was staring daggers at his father. It was like she knew all the things he'd done. And hated him as much as Leonard did.

Sara finally focused her eyes on Leonard, her jaw unclenching. She didn't release her weapon, but she relaxed her pose slightly. She shook her head imperceptibly at him, in her silence echoing the thoughts he was having himself: _Don't work with him._

"What are you doing here?" Leonard asked his father.

Lewis walked around, keeping Leonard on edge. Two of the men moved closer and Leonard glanced at Sara, cutting his eyes at them as his father responded. She spared one last glare for Lewis before focusing her attention on his goons.

"Heard about the Diamond Center. Nice to see you're following in my footsteps."

"Other than my heists don't land me in jail, sure." Leonard turned to watch Lewis approach the table, glancing over the plans.

With a dry chuckle, Lewis nodded. "You've got the mind for this work, boy. Always did."

"Thanks," Leonard drawled. "But if you've just come to compliment me, you're wasting your time. The score is already gone and I've got a new client."

"You're going to have to put your client on hold. I need you to run a job."

"Flattering. But I'm swamped." Leonard saw his Lewis reach inside his coat and tensed.

"This isn't a negotiation, boy. This is an ultimatum." Lewis turned, midway through drawing his gun-

-only to find that Leonard already had his cold gun out and aimed directly at Lewis's head, the quiet whirr of the machine drowned out by the sounds of a fight from behind him. They stood in silence, father and son, both daring the other to make a move, but neither one doing so until they knew the score behind them.

"Birdy?" Leonard called as it got quiet.

A sudden thud, then Sara answered, sounding completely at ease. "Got your back."

Lewis chuckled, returning his gun to his coat with a smile. "You've learned some new tricks."

"Yeah. This has been a real party," Leonard said, not lowering his gun. "But it's time for you to go."

Lewis chuckled, crossing his arms and making no move to leave. "I thought you'd say that. You were always a stubborn little shit. Too mouthy. Too weak. Too small."

The insults were nothing new. Neither was the overabundance of arrogance. The certainty was though, and it made Leonard uncomfortable. It wasn't like his father.

"At least your sister still knows how to treat family."

Leonard's jaw clenched and he took a step forward. Of course - that's how he'd known about the Center - Lisa had picked him up at his release, and she hadn't come home last night…

His heart tightened; Lisa and Mick were the only two things in the world he cared about and if his father hurt her- "I told you to stay the hell away from Lisa."

"Whoops." He shrugged, pulling out a remote that looked like a garage door opener. "Instead, I may have had a few friends help me out. See, they put a little present inside Lisa's pretty neck. And if I press this," He put his finger against the red button. "Boom."

"You son of a bitch," Leonard snarled, taking two steps forward. He'd never hated his father so much as he did in this moment. Not the time he hit him, nor the first time he'd seen his mother crying and bloody, nor the first time he laid a hand on Lisa.

Sara, he didn't know when she'd moved towards him, grabbed his arm, holding him back when he would have continued right into his father's face, consequences be damned. Leonard resisted the urge to turn on her, focusing instead on Lewis.

He'd never killed, but right now, Leonard didn't think it would be so difficult.

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you," his father laughed. "Relax. Lisa's back at your place, safe and sound. Doesn't even know what we did. And if you do as I say, she won't ever have to know."

Leonard raised the muzzle again, but Sara hissed, "Even if you freeze him, one of his men might still be close to her. There may be another button."

He shook her off angrily, but let go of his gun. "What do you want?"

"Your help on a job. Even split it 90/10." He glanced at Sara, "You can use her, if you'd like. I'll have my man bring you the details tomorrow at your place." He turned, pocketing the device.

"And Lisa?" Leonard called. Sara shifted and Leonard heard the groans and swears of the men from behind. He didn't take his eyes off his father and trusted Sara to watch his back, no other option open to him.

"She'll keep breathing," Lewis said with a shrug, facing Leonard. "If you cooperate."

There was no choice. His father had him and they both knew it. Holding his glare against his father for another moment, Leonard lowered his gun.

"Fine," he spat. "I'm in. Now get out."

Lewis smirked, his eyes glancing over Leonard's shoulder. Leonard looked behind him, seeing Sara's back to him, her hands gripping her knives. The four men were on their feet, though one was being supported by the others.

Their glares were unkind and mostly aimed at Sara, who moved slightly, brushing against Leonard's back. She'd said she was training for whatever trouble he'd get her into. He hadn't meant to get her into this.

Lewis toyed with the gun in his coat, the smile on his face unsettling. Then he nodded, "We got what we came for. Let's go."

He walked past Leonard, who followed his movements, with eyes for no one else.

His men filing out in front of him, Lewis stopped at the door. He glanced back at Leonard and Sara, standing side by side, his cruel grin on his face. "This'll be fun. See you around, son."

* * *

 **I own nothing.**

 **And no, not a huge fan of modern art, but please don't be upset! It's mostly for the joke.**

 **Again, shifting the timeline. I'm aware.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. blown out You left me in the dark

_**I own nothing!**_

The door had barely banged shut behind Lewis and his men before Leonard was moving. He went to the table, grabbing his things and shoving them into his bag. All he could think about was getting back to Lisa. Pulling his backpack over his shoulder, he glanced around, trying to see if he had forgotten anything.

Sara had gathered up her knives and staff, which had folded down. She was getting onto her bike, revving up the engine.

Leonard was walking past her, his mind already at his apartment. For one of the few times, he regretted keeping his work so far from his home. It would be almost an hour before he could be there-

"Get on," Sara said, no trace of the smirk or banter. She seemed to be just as anxious as he was, but he didn't understand why. She didn't know Lisa. She barely knew him. He should question her motives, her reasoning, her angle.

Instead, he didn't even hesitate.

They sped out of the warehouse, not even bothering to lock the door. It would have been the most terrifying ride of his life, Sara hopping up on curbs and speeding around cars and pedestrians. But all his fears were reserved for what waited him at the end.

He directed Sara with one word comments, his hands spanning her tiny waist to hold on.

Somewhere, detached and at the back of his mind, he realized he quite enjoyed riding a motorcycle and would have to consider getting one for himself.

Despite the fact that he knew - of course he knew Sara was here - it didn't quite register until they arrived outside his apartment.

He didn't want her inside. Not because he didn't trust her - he didn't, but she'd proven she was on the level - but because this was personal and he didn't do personal. As Sara killed the engine, Leonard turned to her. "I need a minute."

Part of him felt badly for asking her to wait, part of him didn't understand why he wasn't telling her to leave entirely. She wasn't family, this wasn't her business.

However, he was shorthanded. Even if he couldn't trust Sara entirely, she was his only option. He wanted to have another set of eyes.

Where the hell was Mick?

Sara didn't seem upset by his comment. She nodded, glancing past him towards the building. "Be careful. People don't like to see the truth when it comes to family."

"Doesn't change anything."

"I know." Sara shoved her hands in her pockets, looking up and down the street. "I'm going to take a walk."

Leonard watched her go. "Birdy."

She turned, her brows raised.

"Lewis may have put men around here."

Her smile was cold. "I was sort of counting on it."

"Don't bring it back to Lisa," he warned. "If you're going to do it, finish it."

"I won't put her in any more danger. Promise." She nodded at him and turned back to the street.

"Hey."

This time he got a set of eyes rolled in his direction. "Len." Her voice was almost annoyed.

"Be careful." He wasn't sure why he said it. Wasn't sure why he meant it. But he did.

"I will be." She walked away, swallowed up in the twilight.

With a roll of his shoulders, he headed towards his apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, up to the third floor. The journey seemed to take forever, and every second he wasn't there to protect Lisa was another second he failed. Again.

By the time he got to his door, his nerves were frayed to their breaking point. He shoved the key in and swung the door open.

"Lisa!" Leonard shouted, the door bouncing off the wall.

"Len? What are you doing?" She came out of her bedroom, her down and her eyes half-clouded. "I thought-"

"Are you okay?" Stupid question.

"I'm fine, Lenny," she laughed, but her eyes darted away from his.

His annoyance was overshadowed by his concern, leaving his voice calm and cold. "What happened after you saw Dad yesterday?"

"How did you-" she broke off, brows drawing together. "Were you following me? I can't believe-"

"He came to see me." His tone was flat.

Lisa immediately backed down, knowing exactly what happened when Lewis and Leonard got into the same room. She took a step forward, her fingers reaching out, "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" he asked again, backing out of her reach.

She dropped her arm, her eyes following suit. "I picked him up. Drove him to the Saints and Sinners. He bought me a drink and met up with some of his old friends. Then…" she trailed off, frowning.

"Then?" Leonard pressed. A small part of him hoped that Lewis was bluffing, that he hadn't used his own daughter so callously, but he knew better.

Lisa shook her head, "He must have dropped me off, because I don't remember."

He took a step forward, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. It was behind her right ear, an area not easily seen in a mirror. A small cut.

He sighed, dropping his hand. He knew his father was capable of terrible things - the scars on his body proved it. But he hadn't thought he would be quite so vicious.

"What is it?" Lisa asked, her voice rising in pitch. "Lenny, what-" She ran into their shared bathroom and he followed, standing by the door as she peered at her skin, twisting to see the cut. "What the fuck is this?"

"An incision." He couldn't inject warmth or concern into his voice, not without losing his control. So he remained detached. "He put an explosive in your neck."

She spun, unable to focus on him through her tears. "Why?"

"To make me work for him. Either I run his jobs, or you…" He stopped.

Lisa touched her neck, her hand trembling. "He wouldn't. He's my dad. He wouldn't." She looked up at Leonard, who just stared back at her.

They could pretend all they want, but it didn't change who his father was.

Lisa shoved Leonard away as she pushed past him, "No! This is your fault! He just wanted to be a family again! I just want us to be a real family!"

Leonard allowed himself to be moved back from her, dropping his eyes to the ground and biting his tongue. They _were_ a family. Him, Lisa, and Mick. That was all the family he'd ever needed, but it wasn't enough for her.

She didn't close the door behind her as she ran into her bedroom, but there may as well have been a wall between him and Lisa. Her - emotional, betrayed, and sobbing. Him - calm, cold, and expressionless. People always thought he was Captain Cold after the gun, but it was always who he was. There had been no other option. Leonard waited, like he always had, at the entrance to her room.

When she could breathe through the tears, she held out her hand to him, "I'm sorry, Lenny. Please?"

She could ask him for the moon and he'd try to get it for her. So he couldn't refuse her this. He sat on the edge of the bed and she curled into him, like when they had been children. This time, he wasn't bloodied and bruised, but he wished he was. Lisa cried into his shoulder, the fabric becoming damp and clinging to his skin, but he didn't move. He didn't speak. There was nothing to say. He just held her until she stopped crying, his eyes dry.

He hadn't cried for his father's betrayals in a long time, but he knew how it felt. He knew what it felt like to have your heart broken.

Lisa cried until there was nothing left in her, and weakly crawled beneath the covers. Leonard pulled the blanket over her shoulders like he'd done as a kid, pressing a tight-lipped kiss to her forehead. "I'll take care of this."

She nodded, her lashes clinging together and her fingers clutched around the blanket. She didn't open her eyes as he left.

He stood in her door until she fell into a fitful sleep, then closed it behind him. Leaning against it, he inhaled deeply, feeling like he hadn't breathed properly since stepping inside his apartment.

Once his lungs were no longer burning, he went into his room and climbed out onto the fire escape. The roof was empty - no one ever came up at this time of year. He always found that the cold air cleared his head. He grabbed his phone and dialed the number nearest to the top.

It rang only once before a voice came through. "Hello?" He shouldn't feel so relieved to hear her voice, but he did.

"It's me."

"Hey, Len."

Sara's voice sounded anxious and Leonard felt the nerves begin. Had she gotten herself into trouble? Was she going to bring something back to Lisa?

"Is everything alright?" he asked, trying to control his anger. If she'd done something to endanger him or Lisa-

"Just worried about you. How'd it go?"

Leonard pulled the phone away and stared at the headset, the horns and sounds of the city providing him a background. People didn't worry about him or his sister. Mick looked out for them, but worried? No. That's not what people did.

"As well as could be expected," Leonard answered slowly. "I don't want to leave her tonight."

"Of course. I can head back to the city. Heads up, from what I found, he put a guy at either end of the street and one at the back entrance." There was no annoyance on her end from making her drive out of her way and then sending her off again. Which may have been the reason Leonard said what he did.

"There's a couch here."

She hesitated. "You sure?" It wasn't out of concern for herself that she was asking, it sounded like she was more worried about him. Why?

No. "Yes. But it's up to you. If Lewis sends someone-"

"Then you might need another set of hands. I'm on my way."

Leonard couldn't deny that he would feel better having another pair of eyes on the house. And if those eyes happened to belong to an accomplished fighter...

"Apartment 413," he said. He hung up without saying goodbye.

He took another deep breath before climbing back through his window and into the bedroom. He was a man of planning and lists. But right now, he couldn't make a list. There was nothing to be done but wait. And he hated waiting.

Glancing at his phone, he searched through the contact list. He had a wide variety of contacts - friends, acquaintances, enemies, and everything in between. As he scrolled down, he saw one contact that stuck out: S.T.A.R. Labs.

The Flash would help. He was too heroic not to. He and his friends could remove the bomb, but it would cost something hefty...

A couple minutes later, he heard a knock on his door. He walked through the hall and, after checking the peephole, opened the door.

Sara came in, her eyes darting towards the closed bedroom door and her bag over her shoulder. "How is she?"

"As well as can be expected." Both of their voices were pitched low.

She shuffled awkwardly in the foyer and Leonard closed the door behind her. "Kitchen's through there," he gestured, walking past her. "Living room. Lisa's room. Mine."

"Nice," she said, blue eyes hesitating on the bookshelves around the television and the coffeepot that was perpetually brewing. Notebooks lined the top shelf, along with maps, blueprints, and newspapers, all organized into folders. Sara put her bag on the floor by the front door, glancing at him.

"You can take my room," Leonard said, more for something to break the silence.

Sara shook her head, "Couch is fine."

Without anything else to do, Leonard led the way to the living room, taking the armchair. He sat down and leaned his head back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sara approaching, her steps silent. She didn't take a seat, but gravitated towards the shelves.

"So what are we going to do?" she asked, her eyes on the spines.

Taking a breath, he said, "I might know someone."

"Who?"

Staring at the ceiling, he asked, "Heard of the Flash?"

"Yeah. Scarlet Speedster and all that. He'd help?"

Leonard hesitated. "Yes. But…"

Sara remained quiet for a moment, and clearly following his thought process. "But if you work with him, you'll end up in jail."

"Right in one," he said humorously. "Been doing too much bad for him to allow me to slip by again. Not that prison has had much of an effect, and I'm not saying I'd stay there, but I can pretty much guarantee that we wouldn't make your month deadline."

"Shit."

He smirked, looked up at her. "Tough decision, isn't it?"

"Of course not. We have to save Lisa." She sounded distracted, saying it as though it were a fact, but still thinking. The ease with which she side-barred her own wishes and wants didn't go unnoticed by Leonard.

She chewed her thumb, eyeing the books, but not seeing them. "What if there was another way?"

He frowned, "Not a ton of options, here, birdy. Do the job or she dies."

She turned, her eyes full of sympathy. "She could die anyway."

That thought was what kept his stomach rolling. "Hence the Flash. You've got a different solution?"

"I have some friends that might be able to help, without the prison sentence. If you'd like."

Leonard hated involving more people. But, Sara had a point. If he worked with the Flash, he'd be put in prison, right alongside his father. Which wasn't ideal, seeing as how he valued his life and limbs. More importantly, Lisa would be out here alone, without him to keep an eye on her. And with Mick out of the picture… "Can we trust them?"

"They're good people. I'd bet my life on them."

"Would you bet Lisa's?"

Sara nodded.

Leonard looked away from her. He was trusting in a virtual stranger's word on complete strangers for his sister's life. What had the time come to? "Don't bring them here. We'll meet somewhere else. I don't want Lewis to see anyone coming in or out. It'll spook him."

"The warehouse?" she asked.

"No. He knows about that."

Sara hesitated, her eyes dropping to the floor before back up at him. "There's a park, edge of the business center. Between Mill and 45th. You know it?"

He nodded, his eyes narrowing.

"The building to the south. I can get my team there, if you can bring Lisa."

Her team, huh? "How soon?"

"Within the hour," Sara said confidently.

"Do it. We'll follow once it's dark."

Sara nodded, taking a few steps towards the door. She turned around and took a half-step back to him. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, birdy."

"I don't."

Leonard nodded once and Sara left in a swirl of gold and leather. He watched her go and found that he wanted to believe her.

* * *

Lewis may have been watching the streets, but Leonard had found that had always been Lewis's problem. He only thought two-dimensionally.

He woke Lisa up an hour after Sara had left. "Lisa," he murmured, shaking her shoulder.

She stirred and woke. For a moment, she was almost smiling, but then the recollection of everything hit her. Leonard watched her face crumple as the truth made itself known again.

Before she could find relief in tears, he cut it off. "We have to go. Grab a coat." Thinking it over, he added, "Pack a bag. Few days worth."

Leaving Lisa to pack, Leonard went to the fire escape and peered down, seeing no one. Sara had been correct; the men must be on the corners. Idiots.

"Lenny?"

"In here."

Lisa came in, her eyes still red, but her cheeks were dry. "What are we doing?"

"Getting you some help." He stepped to the side and gestured her through.

"From who?" she asked, following him onto the fire escape. He shut the window from the outside, using his knife to jimmy the lock shut and then started climbing up.

"A friend."

"Your client?"

"Less talking, more walking." He got them to the roof and cautiously checked over the edges of the precipice. No one was looking at any of the rooftops. Figured.

"Grab the board."

Lisa did as he said, pulling one of the boards Leonard had stashed up here when they moved in. She placed it over the edge, creating a bridge between their apartment building and the next. Leonard took a second one and walked across as if he had feet instead of inches. These boards could hold Mick - he'd checked - so they could hold him and Lisa.

They worked together in tandem, passing the boards over and pulling them up behind them. When they'd gotten a few blocks away, they dropped the boards and climbed down the fire escape to the street, far away from Lewis's eyes.

"Where are we going?" Lisa asked, her backpack over her shoulder.

"A warehouse." He was still short with her, his eyes casting across either side of the street. The lights were starting to turn on, but they had that sweet spot between night and day, with longer shadows and darker corners.

"And you can trust these people?" Her voice was slightly accusing and he knew what prompted it. He trusted no one, but he was trusting them with Lisa's life.

What she didn't understand is that whatever hurt her hurt him, too. He was taking a chance with this, a chance that both of them would pay for if it didn't pan out.

"Yes," he said. "We can trust her."

He could feel Lisa's gaze on the side of his face, but didn't look at her. She dropped her eyes after a moment, and they continued through the business center.

At this hour, few were still walking around. Most had gone home to their white picket fences and 2.5 children. Sometimes Leonard wondered if he'd ever get that kind of life. Then he wondered if he even wanted it. Most days, the answer was no. To both questions.

But he was willing to bet those nuclear families didn't have explosives in their necks. That was rather appealing to him.

The warehouse Sara mentioned was a huge lumbering piece of architecture, left behind by the factory lines of the past and too outdated to be used by any modern companies. It made it quite the perfect hideaway.

"Stay here," he ordered, pushing Lisa into a dark corner. "I'll call you when I know it's safe."

"And if it isn't?"

"Then I guess I won't be calling." His curt voice bounced off the brick wall.

She stared up at him and Leonard remembered when she was eight, looking up at him just like this as he hid her in a cupboard. Their father had already finished one bottle of liquor and he always got violent around bottle number two. She'd looked at him like she was looking at him now, equal measures trust and fear.

Drawing in a breath, he exhaled through his nose. "I'll be fine."

Lisa nodded and before she could say anything else, Leonard left.

Making his way to the warehouse, he eyed the potential entrances and exits. The front door was opened a tiny bit, clearly the way he was meant to enter. So he went around back.

Stopping at one of the windows, Leonard peered in. The glass was dingy and dark, but he could make out four separate figures. One of them may have been Sara, but he wasn't certain. If he had any other choice, he would have spent hours watching them, trying to figure out potential dangers or threats.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much of a choice, here.

Using a dumpster around back, Leonard climbed on top of it, boosting him up to the fire escape. He climbed to the second story, using his knife to open the simple window lock, and slid through the window.

He crouched as he landed, the metal grating creaking quietly. It was little more than a catwalk around the edge and through the center of the factory, allowing men to reach the larger mechanics near the ceiling, but it served his purpose.

Lightly stepping on the edges of the metal, he avoided the louder shrieks of old iron and made his way to the front of the factory. There were flood lights set up, chasing the shadows into the corners. Two men stood around a chair, tables, machinery, and charts set up and they were discussing something about the density of metal. Those must be the doctors. A third man stood by the door, his eyes fixed outside and his hand hanging close to his hip. Leonard could see the marks of a holster beneath the brown duster and didn't feel guilty about sneaking in.

On the edge of the group, Sara sat on a small cot, partially partitioned off by folding walls. She glanced at the man in the duster a couple of times, but her attention kept returning to a pack of cards in her hands. Shuffling them quietly, she seemed to be paying no attention to the two doctors' conversation.

Making his way back into the shadows, away from the group, Leonard found stairs leading to the ground floor. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat, his gun within easy reach, and sauntered towards the front.

"...gotten better at trusting people," duster said. He had an insufferable British accent that sounded partially fake. Leonard rolled his eyes.

Sara ignored him, her head canting to the side.

"You'd think he of all people would appreciate timeliness," he continued.

Unable to resist, Leonard spoke up, "I do, just like I appreciate not walking into a trap."

Duster and the doctors both jumped, but Sara just looked up at him. She stood, and the cards disappeared into her jacket.

"Where's Lisa?" she asked. "Is she okay?"

"She's waiting. I wanted to make sure it would be safe." He glanced between the men, who were all staring at him with a mixture of shock and surprise. Apparently, it wasn't often someone caught them by surprise.

Stepping forward, Sara gestured to the man in the duster. "This is Rip. He runs this group. Rip, this is Leonard."

Leonard was interested in what kind of group that would hire a woman like Sara, but he just nodded. Rip didn't extend his hand, so neither did Leonard.

Making her way over to the doctors, Sara said, "And these are the two who're going to help your sister. Martin." An older man, his hair completely grey. "And Ray." This one was irksome. He was too young, all chiseled jaw and honest expression. He stared at Leonard in open amazement, which made the thief uncomfortable.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing, I just…it's nice to see you. Meet you. For the first time." Ray's stumbling sentences were met with annoyance from Rip and a faint glare from Sara.

"How are you going to help?" Leonard asked.

Rip stepped up. "They have access to the highest grade of technology. We'll x-ray the area, figure out how to remove the explosive or, at the very least, diffuse it. Meantime, we'll work on trying to dampen the signal, so if the button is set off, it won't be able to detonate."

It sounded good enough, but Leonard had to add, "And Lisa?"

"Will be safe here until we are certain she is out of danger," Martin slipped in. His voice was cultured, but lacked Rip's arrogance. Leonard found it more palatable.

Leonard nodded after a moment, as if he had been considering it. They were all too kind, or too oblivious, to remark that he didn't have any other option. Stepping away, he pulled out his phone and called Lisa.

"Lenny?"

"Come on in. It's all right."

She hung up and Leonard went to wait by the door, opening it up a little wider so she could see him. Lisa hurried into the warehouse, her eyes casting over the occupants, then the doors and windows, like a good little thief.

"Ms. Lisa," Martin said kindly, a gentle smile on his face. "Allow me to introduce myself." The doctor spoke with her, explaining what they would be doing, and giving names to the rest of them.

Ray glided over to Sara and Leonard, his eyes on Lisa. "So, how'd the bomb get in there, anyway?"

The realization that Sara hadn't told them everything was a bit of a comfort to him. Though, he also immediately found it strange that such a group would come together on nothing more than her word their help was needed.

"My father put it there. To get me to work with him." It was becoming easier to say, tripping off his tongue like nothing more than a distant fact.

Ray stared at him, big puppy eyes shocked. "Oh my god. That's awful."

Leonard merely shrugged.

"Geez," Ray muttered. "And I thought Savage was-"

"Why don't you see if you can help Martin?" Sara cut in, cutting her eyes at Ray.

He nodded, looking again at Leonard, that same amazement in his eyes. Leonard broke eye contact first, uncomfortable with it.

"How's she holding up?" Sara asked quietly.

"Well enough."

"And you?"

He looked over at her, but she was staring straight ahead at Lisa and Martin. "I'm fine."

"You'll have to head back, if Lewis sends his man and you're not there tomorrow…"

"I know." He hated the idea of leaving Lisa here alone, but Martin and Ray seemed on the level. Rip...he doubted Rip would go against Sara, but he wasn't certain. He didn't know them. He didn't trust them.

"Do you want me to stay with her?" Sara asked.

The offer was uncharacteristic, in a way. Sara loved to be in the action, she was a fighter, not a nurse. But at the same time, it was so like her, to offer to help him. Why she was offering at all, why she cared, was still a mystery. But he wasn't entirely surprised.

It would make him feel better, knowing she was here to watch out for Lisa. It also meant Sara would be kept away from his father, so she would be safe, and that made him feel-

Stamping down on that thought, he considered the alternative. If these men couldn't be trusted, it meant Sara couldn't be trusted either. Leaving her here wouldn't accomplish anything, then. On the other hand, if she could be trusted, so could her team. He could leave Lisa here, and still have some dependable backup to deal with his father.

Bad and worse. But he was used to making these kinds of decisions.

"No. I'll need you."

Sara nodded and turned to look at him. "They'll do everything they can, Len." She touched his shoulder gently and Leonard had to suppress his reaction.

Without responding, Leonard walked up to Lisa, who looked up at him with a forced grin.

"You sure we can trust these guys, Lenny?" she asked, the cheer uncomfortable in her tone. She was pulling the classic Snart coping mechanism. Fake it - fake calm, fake happy, fake fine - until you were. It wasn't perfect, but it was the only thing they could do, sometimes. "I'm pretty sure this one's still in high school." She gestured at Ray.

To his credit, Ray just grinned, a perfect, dazzling smile. "I'm an overachiever."

"Let's hope you are, Boy Scout," Leonard retorted.

That made Ray start; apparently he'd never been teased before, though he found it hard to believe. Leonard ignored him when he saw Rip approaching Sara.

"Ms. Lance," he said. "A word?"

Leonard caught the faint annoyance that dashed across Sara's face before she nodded. She followed him to the door and the two of them stepped outside. Leonard drifted around Lisa's chair to be closer, picking up bits and pieces of a conversation.

"...getting too involved," the man said.

"I can handle it," Sara retorted.

A heavy pause. "This won't change anything."

"Don't say that." Sara's voice was tight. "You don't know that."

"The man you knew is gone. You may have to accept-"

A loud thud and Sara's voice grew hard. "You're such a hypocrite, Rip. After everything we did for you? For Miranda? You're going to help me and keep your mouth shut, because if wasn't for you - for _Savage_ ," she spat out, "we wouldn't be in this mess and he would still be-"

She cut herself off and Leonard was astonished at the raw emotion in Sara's voice. She clearly had a lot riding on this job, but she'd hidden it well. Too well. He'd known she was lying, but this went far and above what he had expected.

"And the man in there?" Rip asked, muffled. "You certain you know what you're doing?"

Leonard frowned. What did he have to do with anything, other than as a means to an end?

"I can handle it," Sara repeated.

"I hope so."

Leonard dropped his eyes back to Lisa when the door opened again. Sara was furious, but trying to calm her expression. Rip followed her in, the red smears beneath his nose showing exactly how angry Sara had gotten.

Ray and Martin exchanged a glance when they saw Rip, but neither of them said anything. Apparently, they knew all too well what had happened. When Ray spoke, it was with a level of tact that Leonard hadn't expected from him.

"This is going to take some time to x-ray and evaluate. If you all want to stay, you can have a seat." He pointed to the table.

Martin spoke, still adjusting and re-adjusting knobs and dials on the machinery they'd brought in. "I find myself craving some food. Mr. Hunter, do you think you could stop at Big Belly Burger and get us something? It's been quite some time since I've had one."

More importantly, get out for a while, Leonard heard.

Rip - Rip Hunter - glared, but agreed. "I'll be back shortly."

Leonard stepped back from the chair and the doctors, taking a seat at the table. Sara followed him, her eyes staring daggers at Rip's back until he vanished out the door.

With the doctors talking science, and Lisa unable to join them, Leonard found himself at a loss. He didn't want to leave until they told him as much as they could, but he didn't want to sit here and do nothing. He could do it on a job, but waiting for a diagnosis on his sister? That was testing the limits of even his patience.

"How about a card game?" he suggested.

There was a clatter as Martin dropped something by Lisa. Leonard looked over, annoyed, but it was just a tray. Nothing important.

When he turned back to Sara, he was startled to see that her eyes had gone closed off again. She was smiling, but it wasn't quite right - a little too sad to be a smile. Chalking it up to her conversation with Rip, Leonard let it go.

"Sure," she said, reaching into her pocket to grab the deck she'd stashed there. He almost thought she hesitated at handing them over, but it was probably nothing.

After he dealt, poker or nothing, he chanced a look at Martin and Ray. Ray was engaged in talking to Lisa, but Martin was watching Leonard and Sara, a expression of melancholy on his face. It shifted to Sara as he spoke. "Ms. Lance, are you-"

"I'm fine, Martin," Sara said, casting a faint smile at him. "Keep working."

He thought it was about Rip, but Martin's eyes turned to him. Quickly, he looked at Lisa and continued working, and he and Sara played their card game in companionable silence. But Leonard couldn't quite get Martin's expression out of his mind.


	7. No dawn, no day, I'm always in

_**An early one for you!**_

 _ **I, per usual, don't own anything.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_

 _ **Happy Thanksgiving! :)**_

* * *

"We can do it."

Leonard looked up from where he was lounging on Lisa's temporary bed. Sara was playing solitaire on the table, but stood when Leonard did.

Martin grinned, tired from the hours of x-rays, conversations with Ray, and pouring over books and charts, but he was pleased. "We can remove it safely."

"When?" Lisa asked, sitting up on the chair.

"We'll need some time to gather supplies, but maybe two days?" Ray said. He saw Lisa's expression fall, and hastened to add, "But we'll keep you safe here."

She argued, "But Lenny will-"

"I'll take care of it," Leonard cut in. Two days meant that he would still have to work with his father, to keep up appearances. He forced a faint smile for his sister. "You'll be safer here."

"You should at least call Mick."

He had, but without any luck. The big man had dropped off the grid. "It'll be fine."

Lisa looked ready to argue, but it was late and they were all exhausted. Leonard leaned over her chair and kissed the top of her head. "I'll check in. Stay here. Behave."

Sara caught his eye and went to grab her coat, giving Leonard a few moments with his temporary allies.

He glanced at Martin and Ray, sparing a nod for them, then turned to Rip. The leader had come in with food, and nothing more had been said about his altercation with Sara, but it was clear he wasn't thrilled with the arrangement.

"If anything happens to her," Leonard said quietly, "it won't just be a bloody nose."

Rip met his eyes. "Despite what you may think of me, Mr...Leonard, I will do everything I can to protect her."

Leonard wanted to believe that.

"And I trust you will do the same?" Rip murmured, glancing behind Leonard.

He looked back, seeing Sara approaching with her things.

"Yes." The word was drawn out before he'd had a chance to consider the alternative.

"Ready?" Sara asked, smiling at Ray, Martin, and Lisa, and nodding at Rip.

Leonard agreed and they stepped out of the warehouse. Despite hearing the door close behind him, Leonard could still feel the weight of their gazes on his back. He was supposed to look out for Sara? He thought it was the other way around.

They walked back through the business center in silence, finding the building he and Lisa had descended and going back up. Sara expressed no surprise about the boards, but did say she thought it was clever.

It was past three in the morning by the time they finally got back into Leonard's apartment. He couldn't believe that just this afternoon, he had been laughing. It seemed so distant from the dreary reality now. Exhausted, he should have immediately gone to bed, but he stayed just outside his door, watching Sara move the pillows around and grab a blanket.

She looked up at him. "Lisa'll be okay."

He didn't nod or agree. He appreciated the thought, but it meant next to nothing. He glanced at her as she took off her boots and jacket, settling down onto the couch. "Don't you have something to change into?"

"Not really. Wasn't planning on a sleepover. Should've thought to have Rip get some of my things, but..." She shrugged.

Fair enough. He went into his room and pulled out an old t-shirt. He rarely wore short sleeves, so it'd be no skin off his nose if she used it. "Here." He came out and tossed it across the distance between them. She caught it easily, blue eyes startled.

"Thanks."

He didn't respond. Seeing he was disinclined to conversation, she tried to say, "Get some rest. Good-"

"This guy," Leonard interrupted, leaning on the wall. "Savage."

She stiffened, but he pretended not to notice.

"What'd he take from you?"

"Something important," she answered shortly. Back to the shuttered expression and the dangerous set to her mouth. Back to the woman he'd met that first night. Part of him regretted having to back to this, but he had to figure it out.

"I didn't figure you as the sentimental type."

"I'm not."

That's what he thought. "But you're willing to risk breaking and entering?"

Sara stared straight ahead, but as Leonard looked at her, he saw a steely resolution. Some might have called it reckless abandon. "I'm willing to risk everything," she said fiercely.

He nodded once. "Goodnight, birdy."

She looked up at him, that resolve gone. He saw behind that mask, to something that looked a bit like fear. For the first time, she looked quite small and vulnerable in the dimmed light, covered in one of his blankets. "Night, Len."

He went into his room and closed the door, exhausted, but his mind moving a mile a minute. She was clever, but he was used to clever people, used to reading between the lines and lies, and things that people didn't mean to say.

Savage hadn't taken something from her, he'd taken someone. He'd killed a man that Sara had...cared for. Deeply. Now, she was planned a suicidal mission to take Savage's life in return. Her team knew about it - otherwise Rip wouldn't have tried to talk her out of it. Martin - that would explain his sad looks. He didn't want Sara to die. Clearly they knew of her plan, but they were unwilling to help, perhaps to try and protect her.

Was that what Rip wanted him to do? Refuse to help, and in so doing, keep her safe?

Doubtful. From what little he knew of Sara Lance, his refusal to help would only result in Sara trying to take care of it on her own. That would be even more dangerous. She wouldn't let something as inconsequential as her life keep her from trying.

Leonard shook his head at her foolishness, stripping out of his coat and jeans, falling onto his bed. This is why he didn't get involved with anyone. Too much drama, too many ways to get hurt.

He wondered what the man had been like, to get a girl like Sara to fall for him. Had to be someone interesting, at the very least. A fighter, maybe, to keep up with her. And handsome. Not because she was shallow, but because that's the type of man she deserved. Someone who could look her in the eye and be an equal, in every way that mattered.

That would have been something to see - Sara, in her prime, with a man by her side that was just as good as her.

But then he died. And took a big piece of Sara with him, leaving her broken, but still pushing forward. Sad, but still trying to laugh. Alone, but trying to keep others from being lonely.

That was why he didn't get involved with people. Even if they cared, even if they were actually there for you, one day could take them away forever. Then what were you left with? A broken heart and a lifetime of emptiness. Just look at Sara.

She deserved better than that. She deserved to be happy with someone who completed her. Maybe someone like-

The thought was unbidden into his head and Leonard rolled over, squashing that thinking and closing his eyes. No way was he going to get caught up with a girl who was still mourning someone else. He couldn't compete with a dead man and he wasn't going to try.

He didn't want to try.

Despite his attempt at convincing himself, Leonard found sleep elusive and his thoughts focused on the dangerous woman with the sad smiles, curled up in his shirt.

* * *

Leonard was woken by a knock on the front door. Pressing his face into his pillow, he stifled a groan. His internal clock told him he'd only been sleeping for a couple of hours, and he felt it. He moved slowly, knowing it was one of Lewis's men and not inclined to help him out.

Then the door opened and Leonard could hear murmured voices. Concern pushing his exhaustion aside, he pulled on his jeans, grabbed his knife from beneath his pillow, and crept down the hallway, hugging the wall.

Sara had opened the door, one bare foot braced behind it to keep anyone outside from entering, and a knife behind her back, hidden from whoever was outside. His t-shirt brushed the top of her thighs, the dark fabric making her hair glow all the brighter and for a moment, his chest hitched. Then, he noticed her stance was rigid and Leonard could make out the words now.

"...here to check up on little Lisa." The voice was unfamiliar, but the tone denoted him as one of Lewis's cronies. Brawn over brain, with a healthy dose of cruelty. Leonard moved forward a bit more, tightening his grip on the blade.

Sara didn't flinch. "I told you, you're not stepping foot in this apartment."

"Move aside, bitch."

Her feet shifted slightly, not moving, but standing firm. "No. Give me the plans and I'll pass it along to Leonard."

"What are you, his bodyguard?"

Leonard could almost feel Sara's cold smile in her answer. "Yup."

"Open the door!" It rattled slightly as the man outside tried to push his way in.

Sara didn't budge. From behind, Leonard could see her hand tightening on the hilt of her blade. "No."

"What kind of coward hides behind a girl?" the man shouted.

"What kind of trash uses his own daughter as leverage?" Sara spat.

"She's nothing but a future whore."

Leonard made to step forward, but Sara spoke up.

"Say that again." Sara's voice was colder and harder than Leonard had ever heard from her. He got chills, so he had no idea how the man at the door would be feeling, facing that anger head on.

Silence. Then a muttered insult and a shuffle of papers. "Fine. We'll see you at the warehouse at three. You better hope your boyfriend pulls this off, 'cause if he can't, I'll make sure it's not just the brat who pays for it."

Sara didn't correct his misconception. Nothing she could say would be more convincing than his shirt and her bare feet. "He will. But you'd better hope you aren't considered expendable. Because I'll be all too happy to follow up with that."

"Bitch."

Sara shut the door without comment and locked it. Facing the wood, she took a deep breath before turning to Leonard, papers in hand, unsurprised to see him. Her eyes danced over his torso; he'd neglected to put on a shirt before coming out. She didn't seem surprised or put off by the scars, which was a welcome reaction.

"Here." She shoved the papers toward him and went towards the living room, cracking her knuckles. Despite being dressed in only a shirt, her stance and tone screamed danger.

Papers held loosely, Leonard didn't look at them yet. Sara was pissed and although he didn't blame her, he needed her levelheaded. She was the only one he could trust on this job, and though his wayward thoughts from the night before still irked him, it was Lisa at stake. "What's got you so unhappy this morning?"

Her eyes sparked as she glanced back. "What do you think, Snart?"

Heading towards the kitchen table, he allowed his face to fall into his neutral expression. She rarely called him by his last name, and it sounded strange coming out of her mouth. "I think this is exactly what you signed on for. Pulling heists. Getting cold feet now?"

"I signed up to work with you. Not assholes like that."

"Well, part and parcel of working with me."

Sara's comment was muttered and probably not intended for him. "You're nothing like them."

"You can't know that."

She turned on him, ready to retort, but she choked down on the words. Grabbing her phone instead, she reported, "They're still trying to gather the supplies, but no one came near the warehouse last night. Safe to say that Lewis doesn't know where she is."

He'd been prepared for an argument, this misdirection caught him by surprise, but he recovered. "Unlike us."

She exhaled a quiet laugh and just like that, the tension was broken. "Right. What do you need me to do?"

He went back to his bedroom, planning on getting dressed, and said, "Clear off the table. Got a lot of work before three."

It was diamonds again. Of course. That was one thing he and his father did have in common - an eye for jewels. After the Center, it was almost too easy. Leonard and one other could enter as janitors, using lifted ID cards. They could let the others in afterwards. The lasers were a minor hindrance, but with his gun, they'd have at least a minute before the alarms were triggered. He could pick a lock in that time. They'd have cops on their tail, but no one knew the city like Leonard did. The only problem was security. There were at least three on each floor, and the 27th, where the diamonds were, always had two. But they changed shifts at the same time each night, so if he could time it properly…

By 1:30 PM, Leonard had most of a working plan. He had to view the security logs, and it wouldn't hurt to have a backup plan or three, but he had something that could be workable. Now it was just a matter of convincing his father and his men.

They took Sara's bike back to the warehouse. Partially because he wanted to be able to get out of there quickly, and partially because he didn't want Sara there without him. His father might be able to contain his temper on occasion, but he wasn't going to test it by throwing the combative fighter in there alone. He didn't need to direct her this time, she knew the way.

When they arrived at the warehouse, it was empty. Before he'd finished laying out his plans, however, he heard the sounds of cars pulling up outside.

"Just stay out of their way," Leonard muttered to Sara. Not because she couldn't take them, but because he didn't want to risk Lisa.

She nodded, but he noticed her staff was always within reach, not to mention what she quite literally had hidden beneath her sleeve.

Lewis strode in, his eyes casting over Leonard before resting briefly on Sara. "Have a good evening?"

Leonard ignored that. "Let's get started." The men grouped up around the plans, Sara took a spot at Leonard's shoulder, not watching him or the plans, but the others.

Despite the circumstances, Lewis knew better than to interrupt Leonard. Since he was a teenager, Leonard had always had an eye for plans. Even though his father hated him, and the feeling was mutual, they both knew that listening to him would pay off.

"I need to look at the security logs, but I think we can get in and out without being seen, if everyone follows my plan," Leonard summed up. He raised his eyes to the men standing around the table, looking for dissenters.

One man, who had earned a glare from Sara when he'd tried to interrupt, spoke up. "Don't understand why we're pussyfooting around. We've got the guns. Why not just blow our way in?"

Recognizing his voice from this morning, Leonard fixed his face in his memory. His name was David, one of Lewis's older cronies. "Because if we 'blow our way in,'" Leonard drawled, "the cops will be on us two minutes earlier, which means we'll be without diamonds or a way out."

"You can't know exactly how fast those pigs can move," David argued. Sara shifted behind him and Leonard glared.

"He knows," Lewis said. "Shut your mouth."

Leonard refused to look at his father. They both knew how Leonard could calculate the response time so well. Lewis had been a cop - a corrupt one. They both knew response times, Lewis just knew them from both sides.

Lewis spoke up, "David, you'll get the security logs. You'll meet us here tomorrow morning."

"Exact to the minute," Leonard cut in. "Estimates won't work."

David rolled his eyes. "Sure."

"Sully. You and Mark get the uniforms. One for Leonard and one for me." Lewis stared at Leonard, daring him to argue. For a brief moment, he considered it. He didn't want to leave Sara alone with Lewis's men. But she wasn't speaking up and he couldn't appear weak.

Leonard yawned, motioning for Lewis to continue.

"Chip'll get the security cards. We'll be ready to go tomorrow night."

"If David gets the logs," Sara cut in.

Lewis shrugged and Leonard knew better than to press the issue. Either way, it'd be tomorrow night.

"In the meantime, we'll keep each other company until dark. I've got a few more questions for you," Lewis grinned. "The rest'll work on organizing the supplies I've brought."

Leonard had seen the guns and weapons. His unconcerned shrug served as his answer.

Lewis took charge, ordering his men around, having them dispense weapons and ammo to each go-bag. He grinned at Sara, and handed her a large coil of rope. He grunted as he passed the weight along. "Why don't you knot this up for us?"

Sara took it without flinching, in one hand. She met Lewis's eyes. "Fine." Carrying it as if it was a bag of feathers, she walked behind Leonard to lean on the wall.

"How'd you find that one?" Lewis asked.

"The classifieds," Leonard retorted. He kept his voice short, making it clear he didn't want to discuss Sara any longer. Any time Lewis took an interest in something, it rarely turned out well.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes," one of the men said, still at Lewis's side, watching Sara. "I love that."

"So did Hitler," Leonard said sharply, glaring at him. He met Leonard's eyes, blanched, then scurried off to his assigned work. He turned to his father, "What questions did you have?"

Lewis was still staring after Sara, but shook his head. "How long will that gun of yours keep the lasers frozen?"

Leonard fell into the pattern of the job, his eyes on every person, while trying to keep his father occupied and away from the others.

Chip drifted over to Sara, who was knotting up the rope with unexpected efficiency. Leonard kept him in the corner of his eye, unsure if he'd need to step in.

"You're good at that, cutie," he said, grinning at Sara. "What else can you do with those hands of yours?"

Sara looked up at him, the sweetest, most insincere smile on her face. She batted her eyelashes and cocked her head to the side. "Snap your neck."

Chip laughed weakly, but Sara's smile faded and she continued to stare at him, nothing but promise in her eyes.

When he realized that Sara probably wasn't joking, he returned to his assigned job, nervous as he glanced back at her.

Sara looked at Leonard. She winked at him and Leonard had to hide his smirk.

"Focus, boy." Lewis hit his shoulder, knocking him back a few steps. He recovered quickly, finding his balance with an ease that only experience could provide. Leonard glared at his father, who seemed completely oblivious.

A scuff from behind had him glancing back. Sara had straightened up, reaching for her staff. Leonard waved her down. It was fine. Nothing new. She stared at him for a long moment, then leaned back against the wall with a frown. It was clear she hated not doing something, but he appreciated the sentiment.

This job was awful, but at least he had one person to watch his back.

* * *

"This is a surprise," Sara remarked, straightening from where she was leaning on the wall. She went to the kitchen table and took a seat.

Leonard scoffed quietly as he put the plate down in front of her. "It's pasta and sauce. Hardly five star."

"Homemade sauce." She sat at the kitchen table and passed him a napkin. "Just never figured you for the cooking kind."

After the long, tense afternoon, Leonard and Sara had been set free by Lewis at nine. His men had gone out to get what they needed and though Leonard doubted it would turn out as it should, there was nothing more he could do at the moment. Lewis was running the show. At this rate, he just wanted to make sure that he and Lisa survived.

And Sara.

She'd let him drive the motorcycle back to the apartment and it had been as thrilling as he'd anticipated. He definitely had to get one. The feeling of Sara wrapped tightly around his back hadn't been entirely unwelcome either.

Dammit. Now that he knew the truth of her backstory, he was finding it harder and harder to keep from being attracted to her. And he was trying, desperately. But every time he looked for something to dissolve his feelings, he saw her watching him, or standing beside him, or wanting to stand up for him.

Even worse, he was finding that he was doing the same for her.

She tucked into the food, glancing up at him after a few bites. "This is really good."

"I do know my way around boiling water."

Sara laughed and they ate quietly. When they finished, he moved to take her plate, but Sara grabbed it. "You cooked, I'll clean."

Seeing Sara at the sink washing dishes was far too domestic for him. Not because it was uncomfortable, but because she seemed to fit into his life so well. Standing up, he made his way into the living room and took a seat on the chair. He had to distance himself from her. This was getting unbearable.

Leonard Snart was not the type of man to be hung up on another person. People got hung up on him, but he was always in control of the situation. With Sara, he wasn't in control, he was free-falling and he knew that the bottom would be painful. He'd spent his whole life avoiding pain. He wasn't about to give in now.

So when Sara came into the dark living room, he steeled himself and spoke. "What was he like, this man of yours?"

Sara's smile, which had been so bright as she entered, slid off her face. "What?"

"The man that Savage killed. What was he like?" He needed to know. He needed to hear the reasons why he wouldn't never even be a contender. He needed her to think about this other man and stop smiling at him the way she did.

He needed distance, because he already knew it was going to hurt.

She fell onto the couch, staring at him. The only light came from the kitchen and she probably wouldn't see much more of him than a shadow. "How did you find out?"

"I'm not stupid, birdy."

"I know that."

"Overheard you and Rip. Useful information, eavesdropping." He kept his eyes on her, his tone cool and collected. "So, how'd he die?"

Sara stared right back at him, her eyes starting to fill, but never spilling over. Her voice was almost as calm. "Saving my team."

"A hero." The one thing he'd never be. Perfect.

"Not usually," she retorted. "He prided himself on not being one."

"Young guy?"

"Older than me."

"Half the world's older than you."

She shrugged, but still those eyes were locked on him. He'd expected her to drop her gaze once they started discussing her loss, but she kept on surprising him.

"He was an asshole," she said quietly. "A real jerk sometimes. But there were these moments, when he would let me in. Past the sarcasm and cynicism. Turns out we were alike. Both broken. Both alone. Both thinking we weren't worth saving."

"You-" Leonard choked down the words he wanted to say and instead said, "...sound like a Hallmark movie."

"Hardly." She shook her head and finally looked away from him. "We were so angry. At everything. Us, life, the new job. We fought, constantly. Most times we ended up on the same side. He cared, beneath it all." She shrugged and added, "He made me happy."

There it was. There was his answer. He couldn't be what Sara was looking for. Leonard stood, "I'm going to bed. Suggest you do the same."

Sara nodded, still staring off into space.

"Did you love him?" He hadn't meant to ask that. He hadn't meant to sound so…

Sara looked up at him and he saw the woman behind the fighter again. "Yes," she answered, her voice finally cracking. "But I never told him. I don't think he knew."

Nothing he could say could follow that, so he didn't say anything. He closed the door behind him and hoped their conversation would be enough.

But he dreamed of sapphires and knew it was too late.


	8. twilight In the shadow of your heart

_**Long one this time. Thank you so much for the reviews and comments. It makes me happy to see what you think!**_

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_

" _The number you have dialed has a voice mail box that hasn't been set up. Please try your call-"_

Leonard ended the call with a quiet curse, squeezing the phone tightly in his hands. Resisting the urge to chuck it across the room, he sighed and dialed another number.

It rang twice, before a gruff voice answered, " _What?"_

"You need to work on your manners, Mercer," Leonard allowed his drawl to come back in full force, wondering why it felt so odd on his tongue.

" _Snart,"_ Mercer laughed. " _You've got some nerve, calling me."_

"Old debts, Mercer. I'm collecting."

Silence fell as Mercer considered Leonard's words, and Leonard allowed it to sit uncomfortably between them. He'd broken Mercer out of prison a few years back, accidentally, to be honest. Since then, they'd had their scuffles and arguments, but they both knew that Mercer owed Leonard big time.

" _What do you want?"_ Mercer finally asked, a hint of annoyance on his end.

"I need to know if Mick's in your area. He's gone off the grid and I find myself a little short-staffed." Leonard had considered how dangerous it was, letting other Rogues know that he was working solo, and decided that it was worth it. Whether or not Mick got back in time to help him out tonight, which was incredibly unlikely, his partner had never gone off for this long without contacting him. If he was in jail, Leonard owed him to do something about it. If he was in trouble, Leonard would bail him out. He was already on the verge of losing one family member, he wasn't about to let another slip away without trying everything he could.

Mercer had connections in his town, almost akin to how Leonard ran Central City. The only reason they were as civil as they were was because they each had their own cities to worry about, no need to go causing trouble in someone else's turf.

" _Haven't heard of any arsons lately. And Mick isn't exactly subtle."_ Mercer's tone tried to ask the question he wouldn't dare voice to Leonard.

"Check police reports, see if they've already picked him up," Leonard ordered.

For a moment, it seemed Mercer was going to argue, but he knew better. " _You sure he was coming here?"_

"Just do as I say, and we'll call it square, Boomerang," Leonard taunted.

" _Fuck you, Captain."_

"You're not my type. I'll check in tomorrow," Leonard said, knowing the sounds of unhappy acquiescence.

" _Day after. I'm in the middle of something and it's time-sensitive."_

He allowed it, though he knew Mercer was just trying to gain some control over the situation. "Fine. Day after. Don't make me come up there, Mercer."

" _Like you'd fucking dare."_

Leonard stayed on the line, not speaking. Both of them knew that if Mercer pushed him, Leonard would be up there before he knew it and they would not have a civil conversation. Knowing better than to try his luck, Mercer broke first, muffled curses slipping through as he hung up. Leonard turned off the phone and pocketed it. At least that was in motion, now. Mercer was a giant screw-up, but he could read the papers. God, he hoped Mercer could read…

Pulling open the door suddenly, he almost stepped back as he saw Sara just outside his door, her hand up to knock. She dropped her hand, then handed him the cup of coffee she had in the other one.

"Morning," she said. It was said without a smile, but she didn't appear to be angry with him.

"Thanks." He took the hot coffee, taking a sip while it was still scalding. Lisa complained that he could drink lava and never know the difference, but truth was, he liked the way hot coffee felt in his hands and down his throat. It chased away the cold.

The taste said that it had only the barest hint of cream in it. He couldn't remember telling her that, but didn't want to risk an argument with the day that they had coming.

"I talked to Rip," Sara said, returning to the couch where another cup of coffee sat. The blanket was folded up and stacked on the pillows, but she'd clearly only just gotten up before him. She was still in his t-shirt, none of the jeans or leather or armor he'd become used to. "They should be able to start operating on Lisa tonight. They're just waiting on one more thing. They'll call the second it's out." She folded herself into a corner of the couch and looked up at him.

Leonard, realizing he must seem foolish, standing in the door, went to his chair and slumped into it, the four hours of sleep not doing much to dull his anxiety. "Good. And Lisa?" Sipping the hot beverage, he allowed his eyes to graze over Sara's exposed legs, not surprised to see scars crisscrossing the lightly tanned skin. She'd certainly been through the ringer.

"Fine, according to Rip. He sounded annoyed, so she must be giving him a hard time." Despite the faint smile, she shifted, drawing her legs underneath her to hide them from view.

"I gather it doesn't take much to annoy him." He turned his eyes to the table, for her sake as well as his.

"Not much, no."

Her tone wasn't one of buried sadness, which is what he'd anticipated from their conversation the night before. It's what he had been aiming for. Instead, she sounded hesitant, apologetic. As if she felt bad for him prying into her private life.

Would anything about this woman ever go according to plan?

They drank their coffee in silence, neither one of them needing to break the quiet. However, the clock continued to tick on, bringing them closer and closer to this evening and whatever might come with it.

"So how do you expect tonight will go?" Sara asked, standing up and taking her mug to the sink.

Having no illusions about his father, Leonard said, "At best, he'll only take my cut and try to kill me. At worst, he'll take my cut, then try to kill both of us and Lisa."

"An easy night, then." Her voice echoed around the tiled kitchen and bounced back to him in the living room.

He smirked, taking his time with his drink.

"Should I try to take out a few of his men when you go in?" she asked casually, as if taking on five men alone wasn't a challenge at all.

This wasn't like security guards, but he had reservations. "Not until Lisa is safe."

Sara came around the corner and stared at him for a long minute. "And what about you?"

He raised his eyes to her. "What about me?"

"Lisa isn't the one Lewis wants to hurt."

He understood, however- "The location of the bomb says otherwise."

"But-"

"Lisa's my priority," he interrupted. "Everything else is acceptable loss."

Sara nodded after a moment, as if being expendable was something she was used to. Her easy agreement irked him, but he didn't dare argue. He was in too deep already, but if he couldn't stop himself, he could damn well stop her from falling after him.

She went to take a shower shortly after, leaving Leonard with his swiftly cooling coffee and a jumbled mess of thoughts. He life had seemed so simple before Sara had walked in. Now, everything was a complication - his father, Lisa, Mick, and Sara herself. Not that she was entirely to blame for all of this, but his life was dissolving into pre-Sara and post-Sara. He hadn't had these sorts of issues pre-Sara. Or if he had, he hadn't really noticed them.

First things first: sort out Lisa, then Mick, then see what he had left. If he had anything left at the end. He didn't bother thinking too far ahead in his line of work. Chances were, he could wind up dead before he'd done much thinking about what the future might hold for him. So why bother?

Lifting the mug to his lips, he made a face when he realized his coffee had gone cold. Striding over to the kitchen, he rinsed it out, seeing Sara's mug cleaned and back in its place. Tempted to roll his eyes at her thoughtfulness, he decided that sequestering himself in his room might be the best bet, at least for a while.

His single-minded mission ground to a halt as he walked past the bathroom just as it opened, a line of steam streaming out. Colliding hard with Sara, he instinctively grabbed her waist to steady her, as she grasped his arm to do the same.

Warmth soaked into his fingers, the cheap terry cloth towel worn thin with too many washings and hiding just enough and far too much. Her hand on his arm was firm, but not painful. Enough to keep her centered, but still relying on his grip on her waist to keep her from falling.

"Sorry," she muttered, looking up.

He made the fatal mistake of meeting her eyes. Soft blue, like the ocean, beautiful and peaceful one moment, then violent and lethal the next. Leonard could imagine just how many people had tried to swim in those eyes, only to drown before finding what they were looking for. He was barely treading water, himself.

If she would just let go, he might be able to gather enough of his wits about him to do the same, but she kept her hand on his arm. He could have sworn that she tightened her grip, even after the danger of falling had long passed.

The warm water had left her golden hair curling gently over her shoulders, the stripes of water following distracting contours and hollows. Without jokes and jobs, without their distractions and diversions, she was soft in his arms, molding against him like she'd done it a thousand times.

Vaguely remembering that she had said something, he managed an almost disinterested tone, "It's fine."

The movement drew her eyes to his mouth and he nearly came undone when her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His head dipped on instinct, moving an iota closer before he could reign himself in.

He knew what wanting looked like and he knew enough to know that he was damn good at delivering. Had she been anyone else, he wouldn't have hesitated.

But had she been anyone else, he wouldn't have had to.

With nothing less than a Herculean effort, Leonard let go and stepped back, putting space and air between them. Sara's hand dropped back to her side and he saw the emotions - hurt, disappointment, guilt - flicker past before she locked her expression down again. Better the guilt now for almost betraying her dead love than after they did something stupid.

Without another word, Leonard walked past her and into his room, closing the door. How in the world had this gotten so out of control so quickly? It was like a fire, burning down his defenses from the inside out, making him lose his control, his focus, his reasoning. Outside his door, he could hear Sara moving around and did his best to think about anything else, but every thought came back to the Canary. The lonely, beautiful bird who was testing every limit of his will. He'd never had these problems when working with Mick.

Maybe getting shot tonight wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

* * *

A few hours later, they stood just outside the warehouse, watching Lewis's men load up the van they would be taking. Every time he heard the clatter of metal and rattle of ammunition, Leonard had to hold back a flinch.

The men had delivered, he had to say. The blue coverall uniforms were accurate, though they itched a little. He hated that he had to leave his gun behind for the beginning, but he didn't have a choice. Seeing it in Sara's hands made him slightly more comfortable.

"Ready?" Lewis asked, closing the warehouse door. Leonard nodded, going over to lock it. Sara followed him, always at his shoulder.

They hadn't discussed earlier, they'd just pretended it hadn't happened at all. That was fine with him. Faking it - the Snart family motto.

"I've got a bad feeling," Sara muttered, away from the ears of Lewis and his men.

He knew what she meant, the tenor of this job was almost exactly like Alexa. What could he do, though? He merely shrugged.

Her mouth thinned, but she didn't argue. With an unhappy shake of her head, she turned back to face the others.

It was that, watching her stared at his father and his men, knowing that things weren't going to go to plan, yet not arguing with him, that made him rethink it. This was dangerous and nothing she'd signed up for, yet here she was, not arguing, not complaining, just worried.

"If this goes sideways," he muttered, drawing her eyes, "get out."

"I'm not going anywhere," she replied flatly.

"I need to know Lisa's taken care of." Because if it did go poorly tonight, he knew who his father was going after first. He wasn't going to be able to get Lisa out of town if he was dead.

"My team's got her."

Didn't she know that he was trusting her with the most important thing in his life? "I'd feel better knowing it was you."

"Len," she said, facing him. "I'm not leaving you behind." She wasn't giving him a choice - why the hell did he matter so much to her? After everything he'd said and done, why did she care?

"And Lisa?"

"I'll make sure he can't hurt her." She didn't say that she promised, but he heard it in her tone. A fierce, stubborn tone. And her expression - it was the same when she talked about getting even with Savage.

"Birdy-"

"Let's go!" Lewis called.

Leonard climbed into the passenger side seat of the old van, his father behind the wheel. Sara was in back with Lewis's men. There were five of them, and Leonard again regretted the fact that Sara would be with them for most of the evening. Luckily, the van was open between the driver and wooden benches in back, so he could keep an eye on them, for now. Watching in the rearview mirror, he wasn't thrilled by what he saw.

The men had been assholes, taking all the seats closest to the door, forcing Sara to climb over them to the back. At the end of the bench, David spread his legs out so there was no place for her to sit.

Sara leveled a glare at him. "Move."

He sneered, "There's room right here." He patted his lap and the others chuckled, including Lewis. No help from that quarter, as if Leonard had been stupid enough to hope for it.

Leonard was in the act of turning around, when there was the solid thunk of metal into wood.

They all fell silent, turning to see what had happened.

A blade was sitting at the apex of David's spread legs, not close enough to have drawn blood, but so close the fabric had been cut.

Sara's hand was still on the handle, her face inches from David's. "Move or I'll remove your favorite plaything."

Leonard shifted forward again, a smirk on his lips. She could handle it.

Lewis was frowning in the rearview mirror, but the back quieted down and they had a schedule to keep.

The drive was silent, though the inside of Leonard's head was racing with thoughts and numbers, figures and plans. How he could possibly get him and Sara out alive, but not risk Lisa's safety, either.

He didn't have much of an answer to that.

They pulled up a block away from the building and everyone but Leonard and Lewis piled out. They would be climbing up an adjacent building, then crossing over. Leonard would let them in from inside, after bypassing the alarms. As the door shut behind them, he saw Sara in the middle of Lewis's crew, looking so small in comparison.

Lewis pulled away from the curb, glancing at Leonard as if daring him to say something. Leonard remained silent.

They parked a few minutes later and walked in the back entrance, their key cards working like a charm. The guards didn't look twice at them as they went through the security check, buckets and mops in hand. Leonard nodded to the guard; half the trick of getting into a place you didn't belong in was just pretending you did. They worked on the bottom floor, as if they'd been doing it all their lives, but Leonard kept an eye on the clock. When it hit 10:18, fifteen minutes later, he packed up the supplies and carted them over to the elevator.

He and Lewis got in and pressed the button for the second floor. It was silent on the ride up, tinny elevator music the only sound. Lewis shifted, blocking the camera inside the elevator, then coughed. Leonard went over to the wall panel, popping it open and rerouting one of two very important wires. The cameras were now frozen on their last scene for the rest of the building, while the elevators were dark.

"Got it," he muttered.

Lewis nodded. "Good work."

Leonard ignored him. When the doors opened, they got off and ditched the coveralls and buckets, Leonard leading the way to the stairwell.

Without the extra supplies, Leonard was unburdened enough to jog up the stairs, his breath coming easily, unlike the huffing of his father. Smoke a pack a day in prison and get the lungs to show for it.

Heading to the roof, floor 30, took some time, but Leonard was still going easily by the time he got there and his watch said they were right on schedule. He had the security panel popped and was already pulling wires by the time his dad puffed into view.

He flinched as a spark flew, but he saw the red security light above the door go out, along with the automatic light. As he was standing, Lewis stepped in his way, allowing him to be the one to open the door.

Relieved beyond an appropriate level, Leonard saw that Sara was the first one in, shadowed by the lack of light and followed by Lewis's men.

Minus one.

Lewis looked around with a frown, as the door closed behind them. "Where's David?"

The men, with looks of fear and anger, glanced at Sara, who appeared calm in the darkness. Too calm. Leonard recognized that look; it was the same one he'd had when Lewis hit him. He made to step towards her, but his father spoke first.

Lewis glared at her, his fists clenched. "What did you do?"

"David got handsy," Sara retorted, her voice flat. "Fell on something sharp."

"You fucking-"

She looked up at him, her head tilting in that unconcerned manner. "I did warn him."

Leonard's rage was sudden and cold, freezing him in place. She'd endangered Lisa and seemed to care so little about it. How could she?

Lewis snarled and took a step forward, his anger hot and violent, his fist raised.

Leonard got in the way before he'd realized what he did. He never stepped in the way for anyone that wasn't Lisa or Mick. He'd never wanted to.

But here he was, standing between his father and a woman who may have just killed his younger sister because of her recklessness.

Lewis paused and it was all the reprieve Leonard needed. "We don't have time for this," he hissed.

For a long moment, Lewis stared at him. His eyes darted over his shoulder to Sara and hardened. Leonard knew what was coming. Maybe not now, maybe not tonight, but someday soon, Lewis would be coming after her.

"Clock's ticking," Leonard drawled, trying to gain some control.

Lewis finally looked away with a curt swear, taking the lead back downstairs. Leonard waited until the rest of Lewis's men fell in behind him before following, Sara at his side.

"I told you to lay low," he muttered. The last thing he needed was for Lewis to go after Lisa out of spite over this.

"I tried." The detached tone had gone out of her voice, but it didn't help.

"Obviously," he snapped, furious that for all his thoughts on not trusting her, he actually had. Otherwise, he wouldn't feel so betrayed.

"I didn't have a choice."

He scoffed, shaking his head and Sara grabbed his arm, stopping him on the next landing. "I tried. I'm sorry."

Ready to argue, ready to spit back that sorry meant nothing in his line of business, and if she'd endangered Lisa he might shoot her himself, he faced her head on and found that his words died in his throat.

There was a bruise forming under her eye and her lip was split. The shoulder of her sweater was splitting away at the seam and he could see marks on her forearms that had been invisible in the faint light earlier. Blood spotted at her waist, where she'd been wounded before on his account.

"David." It wasn't a question. If she hadn't already taken care of it, he didn't think freezing the bastard would weigh too heavily on his conscience.

She nodded automatically, lines between her brows. "I know that Lisa-"

He cut her off - Lisa was safe for the moment; Sara wasn't. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She seemed startled at his quick turn of emotion. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" he asked.

"He wouldn't take no for an answer." She glanced down, seeing only stairs but clearly looking at the men below. "And they weren't doing anything. I tried to stop him without hurting him, but he..."

Leonard held his breath, feeling like too much of his world was riding on what she said next.

"He was persistent," she said shortly. "But I'm fine."

He eyed her, casting a glance at the blood.

"Really." She looked up at him, a tight smile on her face. "Only reason he got so many in was because I was distracted."

Leonard didn't need to ask, she told him.

"Rip texted. They're operating now."

"Right now? Is she-"

"Move it!" Lewis hissed from below.

Wordlessly, Sara smiled tightly and handed him his cold gun.

They were the last out on the correct floor, the others grouping up just in front of the door. Leonard walked through them, turning on his weapon. "Remember, once these thaw, the alarms'll trip. We've got 2 minutes and sixteen seconds to get in, get the diamonds and get out."

"Make me proud, son," Lewis said.

Leonard lined up his shot and muttered, "Like I care."

The blue light spiraled out of his gun, freezing the laser sensors. At the same time, he clicked his watch, counting down the 136 seconds. He was moving before the last of the glow had faded, his boots crunching on the encrusted floor.

Checking his watch, he glanced back at Sara and the others. "We've got-"

"Hey!"

Leonard stopped mid-step, twisting to face forward. A security guard stood in front of him, his hand on his gun. "What are you doing here?"

This wasn't right. The logs - he'd seen the logs - there shouldn't be anyone on this floor. Unless-

The guard reached for the radio at his waist and Leonard held up his hand, "Wait-"

He flinched as a gun went off behind him. The guard sputtered, then fell to his knees, red pouring out from his chest and leaving his face.

Leonard turned and glared at his father, the gun still smoking in his hand. "What the hell did you do?"

"Saved your ass." He holstered the gun, no iota of shame or regret. "Now move it."

"Your men gave me bad information," Leonard snapped, staring at the man on the floor. Better him than Leonard, but it shouldn't have happened to begin with.

Unconcerned, Lewis shrugged and the retort that followed wasn't from Leonard.

"No wonder you're the one who gets arrested," Sara murmured.

Turning with a glare, Lewis opened his mouth, but Leonard cut him off. "We're running out of time."

Letting the ice come over him, Leonard kept going, his eyes focused ahead. If he could finish this, if he could get his father what he wanted, no one else would have to die.

Except, perhaps, him and Sara.

He was trying to find a way out, but he was coming up empty. If he stopped, he and Lisa would die. If he went through with it, he and Lisa might still die, and Sara definitely would. And there was always the chance that his father would grow impatient and kill all three of them now.

Never again would he walk into something without having an exit strategy.

They got to the vault, Lewis making his men stand at the corner to keep anyone from sneaking up on them. He ordered Sara to stay there, too, but she ignored him completely, staying at Leonard's side.

He knelt down at the safe, inhaling slowly through his nose before touching the dial. Spinning it, he listened for the cues he needed, knowing that Lewis and Sara were staring daggers at each other, but remaining blissfully silent.

Getting through the first few numbers, he heard a faint electronic buzz.

Sara shuffled and Lewis muttered, "Idiot girl."

Leonard tuned them out, getting through the final numbers and opening the lever. "Done."

Lewis shoved him out of the way and Leonard allowed it, stepping back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Sara. Watching his father greedily pour the diamonds into the bag, Leonard had one of those rare moments when he wondered exactly how much like his father he really was. Wasn't he in this exact same position just a few weeks ago? What made him different?

Sara looked back, her eyes darting to the body on the floor, before turning to keep her eye on Lewis.

Right, that was part of it. He did his best not to kill, while Lewis went out of his way to make people suffer.

The buzz sounded again and Leonard saw Sara glance at the display on her phone.

She looked up at him, a smile on her face, "They got-"

"Boy! Get this closed up."

He continued to stare at Sara, "Lisa?"

She nodded, relief written on her face as she looked at him.

Lisa was safe. That meant-

Lewis came out of the safe, two huge bags over his shoulder. "Close it."

Leonard stared at his father and debated. He couldn't do anything about it right now; though Lisa was out of danger, it left him and Sara in even more. Especially since the job was almost done.

He shut the safe, his father whistling to his men to come back, and they trotted over, like loyal dogs.

Sara glanced at them, her smile dissipating like smoke in the wind. Lewis was grinning far too widely and Leonard tensed.

"Well," Lewis said, handing one bag over to Chip. "As much fun as this has been, I think we're just about finished here."

"Congratulations," Leonard drawled. "Do me a favor and lose my number next time."

"You're good, boy. You should be proud. Taking after your old man." Lewis ignored Leonard's sneer and continued, "Too bad you're a spineless coward."

Sara shifted, her hand hovering at her waist.

"Must be genetic," Leonard retorted. The other four weren't moving just yet; they seemed more concerned with watching Sara than getting involved.

"You've made one hell of a name for yourself," Lewis said easily. "But if there's one thing prison taught me, it's how to get a reputation." He pulled his gun, the click of weapons from Leonard's right telling him that his men had done the same, and all of them were aiming at him and Sara. "Take down the baddest son of a bitch in the joint, and you get what's his. Shouldn't have taken after me so well."

Lewis's gun was aimed at his chest, the other four on Sara. She was coiled like a spring, her eyes focused on Lewis, almost oblivious to her own immediate danger.

"Any last words?" Lewis asked.

"Oh, not for me, thanks," Leonard retorted, his drawl in place. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him beg, of seeing his fear. He shifted slightly to face Sara, his hand dropping to his gun, out of sight of his father. Of course, he had no plans to die today, and certainly not by his father's hands. He didn't survive his entire childhood and adolescence to die now. "How about you, birdy?"

She grinned, feral and fearless. "Alexa."

Lewis frowned in confusion, his gun dropping slightly. "What?"

The word set Leonard off, the same moment she moved. Sara launched herself at Lewis, his gun trying to train on her, but going wide, missing Leonard by inches. Lifting his cold gun, he fired an arc, a quick blast freezing their hands and making their weapons useless. Casting a quick glare at him and Sara, then at the bag in Chip's hands, Lewis's men made the smart move. They took the diamonds and ran. Silently thanking the moral compass of criminals, Leonard turned to face Lewis and Sara.

He'd seen Sara fight and knew that she was trained, but right now she was fighting a man who was desperate and vicious. Though Sara's knife had found his side a couple of times, he threw a punch with the hand still holding the gun, knocking her back with a bloodied mouth. She flipped onto her back, kicking the gun out of his hands and leaving her with the advantage.

Leonard watched her get to her feet, her knife in her hand and knew what she was about to do.

And he didn't say a word.

She took one step and his father turned on him. "Shoot her!" Lewis shouted at Leonard, shoving his hand into his pocket. "Kill her or I'll kill Lisa!"

Even if they'd gotten the bomb out of Lisa's head - if it was still in the same room - if it was anywhere near her, she could still be hurt. It had only been a few moments since Sara was contacted. Was that enough time? He couldn't be certain.

Leonard pointed his gun at Sara, the whirr of the cold gun loud in the sudden silence. She stared at him, unafraid, blood dripping from her attempt to protect him. In her hands, she still clutched the knife he knew she could throw with deadly accuracy, but she never raised it against him.

Nothing in Leonard's life had ever come before Lisa. Not Mick, not his own well-being, not money. Lisa was the one thing in the world that he valued above all else. He pretended, sometimes, not to care as much as he did, but he wouldn't hesitate to lay it all on the line for his sister.

But Leonard hesitated now.

"Leonard!" his father screamed, still digging in his pockets for the device that would kill his daughter. "Do it, now!"

Leonard frowned, his hand shaking as he pointed his gun at her. "Sara." The word sounded strange on his lips and he realized it's the first time he'd ever used her first name. The last time.

He didn't know if he was apologizing or telling her to stop him.

She smiled and opened her fist. In her palm sat the device.

The relief Leonard felt went far and above that for a partner. He stared at her, this strange, miraculous, dangerous woman and wasn't quite sure what he'd gotten himself into. Sara winked at him and turned to face Lewis, clearly intent on finishing the job.

"Leonard, do it or I'll kill both of you!" his father snarled, his eyes staring at the woman.

Leonard turned his gun on his father, seeing Sara pause, then step back, allowing him to do this.

"I'm your father," Lewis said, standing up straight and glaring at him.

All his life his father had looked down on him. Talked down to him. Beat down on him. Ground him into the dirt until dirt is all Leonard was. But that was fine by him, because he may have been dirt, but Lisa was kept away from Lewis. Leonard protected her. He'd protected her from Lewis's men. He'd protected her from cops. He'd protected her from the scum of Central City. He'd protected her from himself.

And now, he'd protect her once more.

Leonard stared at the man he'd long since written off. "I don't care."

He fired.

Leonard stared at the look of fear frozen on his father's dead face for a long time.

"Len?" Sara murmured, coming nearer. "We've gotta go. Clock's ticking."

"Right." Leonard holstered his gun, and grabbed the bag containing the diamonds. Their things gathered, Leonard paused. "One last thing."

He put both hands on his father's frozen corpse and shoved, the ice shattering into a thousand pieces. Lewis never could have survived the cold gun to begin with, but this was for Lisa.

"He broke my sister's heart," Leonard explained. "Only fair I break his." He looked up, expecting to see fear or disappointment on Sara's face. Instead, he only saw understanding.

"Come on, crook."

* * *

They passed the cops on the road, the van they drove in unassuming enough at this time of night. Their lights were on and Leonard watched them for a long time in their rearview mirror.

"They're going to come after you," Sara said quietly.

Leonard shrugged. It wouldn't be the first time he was wanted by the cops and it most definitely wouldn't be the last. At least this time, he was wanted for something he did right. No one could miss a man like Lewis Snart.

The diamonds were left in the back of the van when they got to the warehouse Lisa was in. Leonard had to hold himself back; he wanted to run to the door and throw it open. Instead, he walked in calmly, Sara on his heels.

Ray and Martin looked up, the bags under their eyes and rumpled clothes indicating how much work they'd been putting in. Rip was sitting at the table, but stood as they entered, his hand hesitating at his hip before he recognized them and relaxed.

"Mr. S- Leonard," Rip greeted. "What an unexpected-"

"We got it out," Ray said, talking over Rip and giving Leonard the information he most wanted to know. "She's just sleeping off the anesthesia." He gestured to the cot.

Martin smiled tiredly, "She'll make a full recovery, with nothing but a tiny scar to show for it."

Leonard was already walking over to the cot, seeing Lisa sleeping peacefully, her hair splayed out on the pillow. He stared at her for a long moment, relief making him feel weak.

He looked over, seeing Sara talking to Rip quietly. The man interrupted her, grabbing her chin and tilting it up to the light, highlighting the bruise that was forming on her face. Rip's mouth twisted down, clearly annoyed. Leonard turned back to Lisa, but kept his ears peeled for Rip and Sara's conversation.

"...concerned about revenge?" Rip asked.

"No. Len took care of it."

"Seems like he failed to take care of you."

"Back off, Cap. He did what he could. I can handle myself."

"Clearly."

She hesitated, then asked, "Did Gideon see...?"

"No," Rip's voice was surprisingly gentle. "As of right now, nothing's changed. Did you think tonight would affect it?"

"Things are happening out of order. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, so I thought..." she trailed off.

"We both know that the only way to change it is to do something much more drastic."

"Savage."

Rip hesitated, then said, "Even if you succeed, time wants to happen, Ms. Lance. Take it from someone who knows."

"I'm still going to try."

"I know." He sounded resigned.

"I can't lose him again, Rip." Her voice was so small. "I'm can't. Whenever I look at-"

"Lenny?" Lisa murmured.

His focus immediately shifted, and he heard the conversation behind him stop. "Lisa."

She sat up, her eyes groggy with sleep and medication. "Did it work? Are you okay? Where's Dad?"

"Everything's fine," he said, helping her to sit up. "They got it out and you're fine. I'm fine."

"Dad?"

Leonard shook his head slowly. Even through the half-closed eyes, he saw the way Lisa's expression was shocked and angry, how she recoiled slightly from him.

Locking his own reaction away, he bit down on the arguments he could have said. That it was him or their father, that his father gave the ultimatum, that his father had left him without a choice. Instead, he grabbed the bag Lisa had brought, handing her a jacket. "Let's go."

"How could you?" Lisa asked, not taking the coat. "How could you?!" Her voice rose, drawing the attention of the others who had been pretending not to listen.

Leonard's shoulders tightened, hating being put on the spot like this, over something he hadn't wanted to do in the first place. But he couldn't argue for himself, he couldn't argue why he had done it. Everything just sounded like an excuse and-

"Hey," Sara strode forward, her bruised face carefully calm, even though her voice was angry. "Your dad tried to kill him, even after Leonard did everything he asked. He did what he could, but your dad wasn't having it. And you know it. You know what kind of man he was, you know that he doesn't care about anyone but himself and you've got the scars to prove it."

Lisa gaped at Sara, "Who the hell are you?"

"Sara," Leonard answered, without looking back at her. "She helped."

Tracking over Sara's bloodied face and torn clothes, Lisa withdrew slightly, but Sara wasn't done yet. "He didn't want to hurt him. He did everything he could to protect you, to do what your dad wanted, but it wasn't enough. Don't yell at him for saving your life."

Lisa's eyes swam, but she didn't cry. A family trait, not to show weakness. Leonard offered the jacket again and Lisa took it, squeezing his hand briefly. "Sorry."

Waving it away, Leonard turned to face the men who had helped save his sister's life. "Thanks."

He walked over, holding out his hand. It grated on him to be in debt to strangers, but it was worth it to see Lisa whole and safe. Taking Ray's hand, he said, "I owe you one."

Ray, the expressionate, honest Boy Scout, shook his hand. "You don't. It was an honor to help you."

Leonard frowned at that, wondering what the hell Sara had told them about him. "Right." Turning to Martin, he was shocked to see the old man on the verge of tears.

Martin smiled, wiping his glasses before taking his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Leonard."

Without a response, he turned to Rip, hoping they could avoid uncomfortable goodbyes. Rip shook his hand, "Take care."

"Here's hoping we don't see each other again," Leonard said.

Shockingly, Rip chuckled. "It would be too much to hope for that."

"She'll be a little groggy for a while," Ray said, walking outside with them and helping Lisa into the van.

"Doesn't mean I won't remember you," Lisa said, winking at Ray.

Leonard saw Ray flush and rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

Sara lingered outside the van after Leonard shut the door behind Lisa. "I can crash here, if you'd like," she offered.

Leonard shook his head, "Your stuff is back at my place. It's fine."

She nodded, then gave Martin a quick hug before climbing in back, letting Lisa and Leonard ride up front. They didn't talk much on the way to Leonard's apartment, Lisa dozing in the front seat. When they parked, he helped her out, Sara grabbing her bag without being asked and following them upstairs.

Leading his sister into her bedroom, Leonard heard Sara close and lock the front door. They hadn't seen Lewis's men upon their return; safe to say that they had probably skipped town once Chip made out with half the score. But it didn't hurt to be cautious.

Setting Lisa up in her bed, Leonard was about to go.

"Lenny, I'm sorry."

He paused, then sat on the edge of her bed. "Don't be."

"I just...it would've been nice to have a normal dad, you know?" she asked, half-asleep.

Leonard remained silent. Yes, it would have been nice. But wishing didn't change facts.

She sighed, her eyes closing, "You're a good brother. I'm glad you're here."

He smiled faintly, still silent. That was enough for him.

Leonard waited until Lisa had fallen asleep before leaving the room. Low lights from the living room indicated Sara was still awake. His feet drew him in that direction before he could reconsider the intelligence of it.

"Sara."

She looked up from her position on the couch, curled into the corner. For a moment, she stared at him like she'd never seen him before, her eyes soft and unguarded. Then she drew her smile around her like a cloak and it was gone. "How's Lisa?"

"She'll recover. She's a tough kid." He sat down next to her, several large inches of space between them.

"She learned from the best," Sara noted, nodding at him.

His chuckle was unexpected by both of them and she dropped her eyes to the cushion. "You want to talk about it?"

A negative was on his tongue before he swallowed it away. "He was an asshole. Horrible husband. Worse father. Pathetic thief."

Sara didn't say anything, but he knew she was waiting for him to continue.

"He deserved it," Leonard muttered. "But I still...I have no regrets about what I did. Yet, I feel…"

"Guilty." Sara was looking up at him again, unbelieveable understanding on her face. How could she possibly get what he was saying?

"He was a piece of shit." Leonard looked away, unable to stop his mouth from running. "But I feel guilty." His head sagged against the back of the couch, "Maybe I am a coward, if I can't kill a man like him."

"You're not a coward," Sara said fiercely, still looking at him. "You killed a man because it needed to be done. To save people. It was necessary and you put him down because you had to. Doesn't mean you wanted to do it. Doesn't mean that there won't be guilt." Her eyes got that 40-yard stare again. "He was your dad and it was hard, but you did it anyway. That takes strength. The kind a lot of people don't have."

"You're acting like I'm some kind of…" He choked on the word 'hero.' "I'm a crook and a killer."

"So am I," Sara reminded him. When he smiled, she added, "You're a big brother who just saved his sister's life," Sara corrected. "That sounds pretty heroic to me."

He scoffed and shook his head, but there was no point in trying to argue with her. He was no hero. Staring up at the ceiling, he finally got around to saying what had been roiling around his head all evening, ever since he saw how much she tried to protect Lisa, even at the expense of her own skin.

"I know we said three jobs. But you went above and beyond here. Must be that work ethic." He paused and Sara was completely silent. "Tomorrow, I'll start working on Savage."

She exhaled quietly, lines on her face smoothing out and tension leaving her shoulders. "Thank you."

No 'are you sure' or 'you don't have to' with her. That was one thing he respected about Sara. She said what she was thinking and believed that he would do the same. "You earned it."

There was a light touch on the back of his hand. "Really. Thank you."

He drew his hand away, getting up with a grunt. "Get some sleep. Back to work in the morning."

She smiled up at him, golden hair glowing and eyes bluer than gemstones, curled up on his couch like she belonged there.

Leonard suddenly realized that when they pulled this final job, Sara would be out of his life.

Even more startling was the fact that he didn't want to see her go, this girl with the sad smiles and lying tongue, who called him a hero and fought like a villain, with a face younger than his but a soul far older.

His hand still tingled from where she'd brushed her fingers across it and he wondered if she felt the same. Was it like a brand on her fingertips, a beautiful kind of pain that only seemed to get worse the longer they worked together? Would distance stop it? How about if he kissed her? A searing, blissful kiss that burned away any memories of her lost lover, replacing them with _his_ hands and _his_ lips and _his_ name-

"Goodnight, Len."

He blinked, the moment over, and shoved his hands into his pockets before heading to his bedroom, the friction erasing the lingering phantoms of her touch. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the solid wood, staring into the empty room.

"Fuck."


	9. In the dark, I can hear your heartbeat

"I still don't see why I have to leave," Lisa complained as Leonard walked her downstairs.

"Because it'll be safer. A few of Lewis's goons are still walking free. I don't want them coming after you."

"What about you?"

He held the door open for her, the car already here to pick her up. The driver got out and loaded her couple of bags into the trunk. "I'll be fine. Sara's hanging around for awhile longer. It should blow over by then." He didn't mention the fact that if he was wanted for murder, he didn't want Lisa dragged in, too. Add into that Sara's mission with Savage and Leonard wanted Lisa far away from the city. This was safer.

From her disdainful and concerned expression, Lisa didn't seem to buy that.

"It'll be fine," Leonard repeated. "I'll keep a low profile."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's not that. It's Sara."

With a frown, Leonard asked, "What about Sara?"

"I've seen the way you look at her and I just…" Lisa trailed off at the look on Leonard's face. "I don't want you to get hurt, Lenny."

"Nothing hurts me," Leonard replied, keeping his face calm. If Lisa had seen it, what had Sara seen?

Lisa stared at him for a long moment. "You don't have to lie to me."

Leonard scoffed and shook his head. "I can handle it. She's a partner, that's all."

She nodded, a tight smile on her face. "Okay. Just be careful."

"Call me when you get there," Leonard said, moving on before they got into a fight.

She lunged forward, hugging him tightly. "And you call if you need anything."

"Sure."

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she got into the town car and waved at him. Leonard raised his hand, keeping an eye on her until she was out of sight. Only then did he turn and head back upstairs.

On the second floor, his phone went off. The number was unfamiliar to him, but he answered it anyway.

"Snart."

" _It's Mercer._ "

Leonard paused on the landing. "About time."

" _Look, I did what you asked, checked out police reports, asked around, even got prison logs. Nothing. He's not here, man._ "

Leonard stared at the wall, his brows drawing together. If Mick wasn't here, and wasn't in Mercer's territory, where the hell was he? Distracted, he murmured, "Thanks."

" _We square?_ "

"Sure. Square." He hung up, still trying to make sense of this. Mick had never been unreachable for this long. It's like he dropped off the face of the earth. As if he didn't have enough shit to worry about.

He finished the walk up to his apartment, finding Sara sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee, while a second sat on the table next to her, clearly waiting for him. She smiled and some of Leonard's stress faded away.

At least he had her.

* * *

"That's it, huh?" Sara asked, staring at the map.

"Well, now that I know you don't actually need to get into his house, it's all a little easier," Leonard answered, sitting back on his chair.

It was two nights later, and they were sitting in the living room, plans and papers spread over his table. Once they'd ruled out getting into Savage's house, it was just a matter of figuring out where he was going to be. Sara had information (he wasn't going to ask how she got it) that Savage was going to be at a fundraising gala tomorrow night, which was a perfect time. With less security, he'd be vulnerable at a few key moments that night.

"And you're sure we shouldn't hit him on his way home?" Sara asked.

He nodded, pointing at the route. "If we hit him on his way home, he'll be closer to his own security, leaving us with only a two minute window. Even if he's only got the usual four bodyguards, and I think it'll be more, counting the driver, that's pushing our time."

"But the fundraiser-"

"Will have less security, more people for them to keep an eye on, and several exits," he said calmly. She wasn't questioning because she didn't trust him, she was questioning because this was so important. He understood. "This is the best play. Wait for him at the gala, then get him out of the room. You can make your move then."

Sara stared at the map, nodding absentmindedly. Sipping from her mug, she made a face - it had long since gone cold. He took it from her and went to the kitchen, pouring it out and making her a new cup. "I've got the tickets already, friend of a friend owed me a favor. We just need to get in and wait to make our move."

He came back, passing her the mug and seeing her staring blankly at the papers. Remaining quiet, he waited for her to speak up.

She put the mug down - she'd forget about it and it would go cold again - and sat back. "I want to go alone."

Expecting something like that, he wasn't surprised. He took a sip and eyed her over the rim of his mug. He wasn't going to ask her why, she'd have to come out with it all on her own.

"You've got me in, and I appreciate it. But I can take it from here." She didn't look at him, unexpected discomfort from the trained killer.

Leonard arched a brow, "I don't do sidelines. If I'm running a job, I see it through to the end."

"Len-"

"Birdy."

"I don't want you to come."

"That's unfortunate, seeing as how I've got the tickets."

"Please?"

"No."

She glared at him, getting to her feet and pacing in the small space. Leonard remained seated, watching her work her frustration out.

"This has nothing to do with you," she said suddenly.

"Like my father had nothing to do with you." He was relishing how calm he was, just a little. She always managed to unnerve him and get under his skin, it was amusing to turn the tables on her.

"Dammit, Len!"

"This was our deal, birdy," he taunted. "You can't back out now."

She scoffed at him, but he could see the hint of a smile on her face. "Is there any way I can talk you out of coming?"

"Probably not."

She stared at him, that soft look coming over her eyes. "I don't want you to get hurt."

That was a pretty good attempt at talking him out of it. "Don't tell me you've gone soft on me, Lance."

She smirked, still worried, but playing it off. "No."

"Good. Then I'm going."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine." Taking her seat on the couch, she looked at him. "So how fancy is this fundraiser?"

He grinned.

* * *

Sara was less than thrilled over the prospect of another black tie event, but she rallied quickly. It wasn't until later that evening that he thought of a concern.

"Do you need to get something to wear?" he asked, recalling that the blood-stained dress she wore last time wouldn't be of use here. His tux hadn't escaped everything, but he had a backup and wasn't concerned about his options. Vanity may be one of his vices, but it wasn't his worst.

"Yeah, but I've got it handled," she said. She spent a few minutes on her phone as he finished cleaning up from dinner. "I just need to pick it up tomorrow."

He nodded, closing the cabinet.

"I'll pack up my stuff in the morning, too."

Leonard turned, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "Right."

She looked uncomfortable beneath the fluorescent lights, her fingers playing across the grain of the wooden table. "I don't know how tomorrow night is going to go and I may need to get out pretty quickly."

He didn't nod, didn't do anything but watch her, keeping his eyes half-lidded and, he hoped, inscrutable.

"I appreciate everything you've done," she said quietly.

"You seem to have evened out the score," he finally allowed himself to speak, his tone low and controlled.

"Still, thank you."

"Part of the deal."

She stared at the table, her brows drawing together. She seemed to be debating with herself before she drew in a quick breath and looked up. "You're a good man, Leonard."

He scoffed, "I'm a crook."

One shoulder rose up in a shrug. "So? What you do for a living doesn't change who you are." She smiled at him, a gentle look he hadn't seen before. "I'm glad I found you."

His breath caught and in her eyes he saw what might have been - the Captain and the Canary, fire and ice, danger and excitement for the rest of his life.

It would have been good.

Turning, he reached up and pulled down a bottle of good scotch. He usually saved this for exceptionally good heists, but it seemed appropriate. Grabbing two tumblers in his free hand, he poured out a measure of scotch into each. Sara took the glass with a smirk, raising it to him as he sat across from her.

"What're we toasting?" she asked.

"Unlikely partners." And the end of them.

She tapped her glass against his before sipping the dark liquid, her eyes never leaving his.

They sat and drank in silence. The air was heavy with anticipation, but when Leonard rose, he went to bed alone and without a word. One more night.

* * *

When Leonard woke up late the next morning, it wasn't to his alarm or a knock on the door. He groaned as the sunlight came in at a higher angle than usual - he must have slept longer than he planned - and he may have had just a touch too much to drink. He couldn't quite place the noise that woke him until it happened again. A low cry from outside his room.

Disconcerted and half-asleep, he padded to the door, barely enough thought to grab his pants from the ground. Stepping out, he saw Sara still asleep on the couch. Looking up and down, he saw no one else inside, and didn't quite make the connection.

Then Sara cried out again, her mouth twisted into a grimace, brows drawn together. Leonard edged nearer, not quite certain what he was planning to do. Her fists were tightly clenched, her shoulders rigid in repose.

No one would sleep well like that, and they had a big day ahead of them. Making up his mind, he crossed the space and touched her shoulder. "Lance."

She frowned, her face burying deeper into the couch cushion with another one of those low, heartbroken sounds.

"Sara," he shook her again.

She started awake, her hand grabbing his wrist before he could move it. Eyes darting around the room, she seemed unable to place herself. She spoke lowly, her voice quiet and honest, "Thank god, I thought-" she broke off, looking around again. Slowly, she let go of his wrist and brought her hand up to rub her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said in a different voice than before.

He stepped back, giving her space. "Nightmares?"

She nodded once. "All the time."

He scoffed, starting the coffee, seeing as how sleep wouldn't be returning to either of them now. "What do you have nightmares about, birdy?"

"My past." She hadn't moved from the couch.

"Lot of fuel for nightmares?" God knows he had enough to fill his life with them.

Sara scoffed, "I make you look like a angel, Snart."

"So what was this one?" he asked, finding it easier when he wasn't looking directly at her.

She was quiet for so long he didn't think she'd answer. Then, "Him dying."

Leonard kept his eyes on the coffee pot. "How'd it happen?"

"He stayed behind, to make sure we got away."

He moved back against the wall, watching her as she stared at nothing. Half of him wanted to go and console her, the other part wanted her to remember this pain the next time she looked at him. She kept speaking, but it wasn't really to him. "He didn't give me much of a choice, I had to save someone else. But I left him behind."

"Could you have saved him?"

Sara shook her head slowly, unwilling to admit the truth.

"So the only thing that it would have accomplished was kill both of you?"

"He wouldn't have died alone."

"If he cared about you at all, Lance," Leonard said quietly, "dying would have been worth it if it mean saving you."

She hunched forward and he let her grieve, stepping into the bathroom to get ready. He turned on the shower, but didn't get in just yet. Instead, he stared into the mirror and almost didn't recognize the man staring back at him. He had too much in his eyes, too much expression on his face. He tried to school it away, but failed.

Getting under the scalding spray, he stood, ignoring the tingling bite of heat and the growing flush of his skin beneath the water. He wasn't sure if he was angrier at himself, Sara, or the dead man.

He was the fool falling for the woman who was very much unavailable.

She was the grieving woman still clearly hung up on her ex, but seemed to be leading him on. Unintentionally or not.

And the dead man who had fucked up so horrendously, he'd left Sara not only mourning, but feeling guilty for failing to save him. He was the idiot who sacrificed himself for some stupid noble reason, despite knowing that dying was the easier side of that deal - it was living that was the real challenge.

Of course, hadn't Leonard stepped between her and his father? Hadn't he hesitated between saving Lisa or Sara? Hadn't he agreed to go on this suicidal mission for her sake?

So he was an idiot, without the excuse of having the girl to go along with it. Fan-fucking-tastic.

When he stepped out, Sara was dressed and dry-eyed. She smiled tightly at him, "Sorry. About earlier."

"It's fine."

"My dress is ready, so I'll be back in a bit."

He glanced at the clock, "Don't have a ton of time."

"I won't be late."

He didn't offer to accompany her. If she wanted his presence, she would have asked. Which made his curious. "See you later," he said, heading into his room.

He dressed quickly and waited until she had left the apartment, then climbed out his window and down the fire escape. It took him about two seconds to figure that she was heading out the back and sure enough, he saw her heading down.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her. Despite knowing that he shouldn't, he did. He couldn't help it, not after everything she'd done for him and Lisa. But he also knew she was keeping secrets from him and he wanted the truth.

This might be his last chance.

Sara was heading back towards the warehouse she'd met her team in, but she didn't go inside. She went up to the roof.

Leonard followed her, but went inside instead, climbing up onto the catwalk and opening a window near the roof. He couldn't see, but he could hear.

An unfamiliar voice spoke, "Hey, Lance."

"Jax," she said, not sounding winded despite her jog up the fire escape. "What're you doing here? I told Ray-"

"He's busy. Our guest tried to break his way through the glass and it had to be repaired." Jax sounded a little younger, definitely male. Leonard leaned against the wall and listened carefully.

"Is he okay?" Sara's voice was concerned and anxious.

"Bumps and bruises, but he's alright. Pissed, but alright." Jax hesitated. "But we can't do this much longer."

"I know. Just another night or two. If I can get Savage-"

"What is that going to do?" Jax asked, his tone hesitant and soft. "What are you trying to get out of this?"

"If Savage is dead, then everyone else is safe. Miranda, Carter, even..." Sara's response trailed off.

"But if Savage is dead, what's happens to the legends? There'll be no point."

What legends? He'd never heard of any legends about Savage.

Sara was quiet. "It's worth it."

"Is it? If you do this, you won't see him again."

See who? Savage? Her love? ...him? Leonard held his breath.

"It's worth it," she repeated. "Did you bring the dress?"

With that, Leonard knew the interesting part of the conversation was over. He climbed down and left the warehouse, getting back long before Sara. A few minutes passed and when she entered, he was sitting on the couch, midway through his book with a half-full cup of cold coffee.

"Welcome back," he said, putting the book aside. "Get what you needed?"

She smiled, but it was forced. Her conversation with Jax clearly rattled her. "Yup."

"All set?"

She raised her hand, a folded garment bag over her arm. "Just need to get dressed."

He glanced at the clock. "Get started. We've got about an hour."

She vanished into the bathroom, the gentle click of the lock echoing behind her.

Leonard stared at the closed door, then turned back to his book. It was only until he read the same passage three times that he realized it was fruitless. Closing the book, he leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, exhaustion and tension settling onto his face now that there were no witnesses.

Going into his bedroom, he began the process of dressing, each move calculated and set, never a wasted effort. He took particular time with his tie, making the knot sit perfectly and grabbed the cufflinks off his dresser, only a quick glance in the mirror to check the result. The all black ensemble may have looked too severe on a lesser man, but he always looked better without a smile. His coat was in the closet by the door and would hide his cold gun well enough.

Turning off the light in his room, he stepped out into the dark living room, the bathroom door was cracked open and light drifting out. The shower had stopped some time before, so it was only a matter of time before she was ready.

"Ten minutes," he called out all the same, turning his attention to his cuffs.

"I'm ready," the response came almost immediately and the door opened.

Straightening, he looked up, the calm retort catching in his throat.

Sara stepped out, back-lit from the bathroom light. The black halter dress accented her pale skin and gold hair, left loose and around her shoulders. It drifted across the floor, tightening at her hip and up through the bodice, black sequins glittering like diamonds even in the faint light. She stopped in the doorway and stared at him, her lips parting slightly.

With a crooked smile, she came closer, the dress dramatizing her movements. "You look good, crook."

She reached out with delicate fingers, tucking the tie under his jacket more securely and then smoothing over the silk. Leonard watched her, his eyes half-hooded. She was too close and he was in too deep.

"Shall we?" he said, stepping to the side and away from her, freeing his skin from her palms. He got his coat and gun, the time it took to put them on giving him enough space to breathe again. When he turned, she was still where he had left her, that too-soft, too-real look in her eyes. He held out his arm with a smirk and she took it with only a moment's hesitation, locking away whatever she was thinking behind a grin.

As they passed by the hallway mirror, he couldn't help but glance at their all-black ensemble. It was like they were going to a funeral.

Here's hoping it was Savage's.


	10. I tried to find the sound

_**Hi.**_

 _ **So I know I said I'd update on Friday, but this next chapter has some weird pacing issues. Instead of posting a short piece on Friday (that will almost certainly result in unhappiness from you all), I thought I'd post two shorter pieces this week. You'll get one today and one on Friday. Hope that's okay. A bit more satisfying for all of us, I think.**_

 _ **Also, if you want a sneak peek at Friday's piece, I'm on Tumblr as captaincaitastrophe and I'll be posting short pieces of upcoming chapters or stories. More immediate feedback and I get to share more with people who maybe aren't familiar with me on here.**_

 _ **As always, thanks so much for the support and the comments. It really means a lot to me and keeps me motivated to work on this. I hope you enjoy! :)**_

* * *

The fundraiser was a little lax when it came to security. All it took was a flash of Sara's leg and he was able to slip through the metal detector without being caught. All of her blades, she explained, were ceramic and therefore didn't register.

The dress left little to the imagination, so he was curious as to where she was hiding them.

Taking place in a hotel ballroom, the south wall had been left open to the elements, all glass windows and open pathways leading out to the garden outside. It made it perfectly acceptable for Leonard to wear his coat inside, which made hiding his weapon that much easier.

They did a survey of the room, grabbing drinks and chatting with passersby before heading to a small bar table lit by candles over in a corner of the room. Sara leaned against the top, her chin in her hand. Leonard sipped his drink, half his attention on the crowd and the other half on her.

"No sign of him yet," he murmured against his glass, allowing his eyes to land on her after confirming that Savage wasn't here.

Sara shook her head. "He'll show."

"And when he does…?"

She glanced up at him with a faint grin, "Another test, Leonard?"

He shrugged, placing the glass down. He wasn't sure what he'd meant.

"When he does show, you call asking for him and the concierge gets him out into the hallway, where I'm waiting. I'll get him away from the door, kill him, and get out." She sounded so calm, compared to how she had been when they were planning this.

His notice of her change of mood didn't escape hers and she shrugged. "It'll be over tonight, one way or another. Makes it easier."

"How long have you been waiting for this?" he asked, turning his eyes to the dancers outside.

"Feels like a lifetime." She picked up her drink and downed it, the sound of the music drifting through the glass and keeping their silence from becoming too heavy.

Leonard found it darkly humorous that the woman he thought of as vulnerable or small could also talk about killing someone as calm as could be, and he accepted both sides as easily as the other. She was both the sad, vulnerable woman and the deadly killer. Just like he was the broken man of morals and the corrupt thief. Two sides, but the same dirty coins. After tonight, he would just be left penniless.

Finishing his drink, he placed the tumbler down and cast another glance around the fundraiser. Still no sign of Savage. He turned to Sara, about to suggest they take another turn around the room, but stopped.

Sara stared at the orchestra, swaying slightly in place. Her attention on the music, he allowed himself a moment to look. The gentle lights would flatter anyone, but Sara seemed to glow, her eyes sparkling. Then she looked at him, a gentle smile on her face.

"Wanna dance, Leonard?" It didn't sound so much like a question as it did a soft statement.

How could he turn that down?

Without a word, he walked around the table and held out his hand to her. Sara took it, her fingers slipping into his easily.

He turned her onto the dance floor, his hand sitting low on the small of her back. Unlike last time, there was no glancing over shoulders, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

Leonard stared directly at Sara, who smirked and looked up at him. Her hand was light in his palm, burning a hole through his skin and into his very bones. No matter what, he would never forget the feel of Sara under his fingers. They moved easily through the pattern, his gun heavy against his leg, but not impeding his movement. Both of them were weighted down with weapons and blood, with history and sorrow, but here they were, spinning on the dance floor like the purest of souls.

Perhaps having a darkened soul meant less when there was someone who accepted it.

Sara stared up at him, her eyes dark. "Regardless of how this turns out, I wanted to thank you."

"For nearly turning you down? Or for getting you shot? And then nearly shooting you myself," he quipped.

"For making me feel alive for the first time in a long time. For helping me remember."

Leonard wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. But he nodded, all the same. "Sure, birdy."

She leaned her head against his chest, right above his heart, and it took everything he had to keep the tempo of the dance. Her arm tightened around his shoulder, a sort of one-handed hug, but she didn't seem inclined to let go. He didn't realize that his hand dug tighter into her back, needy fingers pulling her nearer as easily as breathing.

Sara's breath danced across his suit front, her fingers tangled with the hand that still led her. "I'm going to miss you," she murmured, quiet enough to pretend he wasn't meant to hear it, but loud enough that he did anyway.

Then don't go.

Leonard kept the words locked behind his lips, refusing to admit that truth. If he said it, it would be too real. If he said it, it would hurt too much. And even if he said it, this would still end.

For the moment, he held her as close as he wanted. He thought and he pretended, he lied to himself because it would still hurt in the long run and at least this way he'd have something to hold onto.

The rest of the dancers could have long since vanished for all he knew. All that mattered was the beautiful pain of Sara in his arms and against his heart, knowing that he'd have to let go. Whatever she was thinking, she didn't pull away, she didn't try to distance herself from him as she had before, she didn't mention her lost love. For the moment, he could pretend that this was truly where she wanted to be. Not somewhere else, not with someone else, but here, with him.

He'd never be able to recall the name of the song that played behind them, but he'd always remember how it sat on his shoulders.

As it ended and another song began, she pulled away and he let her, though they didn't leave the floor. Her cheeks glistened, but her smile was steady. He didn't risk a smirk, unsure if it would come across as detached as he wanted it to be.

His eyes drifted over her shoulder, unable to stare into those dark sapphires any longer without making a mistake. Glancing at the door, he was almost relieved to see a swarthy man enter.

Leonard leaned down, his cheek brushing against hers as he spoke into her ear. "Savage just came in." Had he imagined the way she'd leaned up to him? As if it was something else she'd been hoping for?

As his words registered, he felt her tense up beneath his fingers, the smooth movements of the dance fading as she prepared for a fight.

"Chill, birdy," he murmured, still leaning down, as if he were whispering sweet things into the ear of his date. "Follow the plan."

With a concentrated effort, she relaxed. Only when she was calmer did he release her, letting her head into the hallway before he made his move. Sara's dress swayed and vanished behind a door, her chin held high and her eyes flat. He watched her go, his hands clenching at his sides. This was the beginning of the end.

Returning to the table they'd abandoned, he grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray and took out his phone, turning away from the party. Dialing with one hand, he took a sip of the beverage, swishing it in his mouth before swallowing.

 _"Thank you for calling the Princess Hotel, how may I direct your call?"_

"I'm trying to reach a Mr. Savage," Leonard said, not bothering to disguise his voice. "He's attending the Warner Benefit Fundraiser."

 _"We don't usually accept calls for those who aren't guests at the hotel…"_

"It's rather sensitive information, regarding his bank account." Leonard cast his eyes around the dance floor again, seeing Savage chatting with a younger woman.

 _"Ah, just a moment."_

They put him on hold, the music faint and crackling. Leonard listened as a quiet page went up for a Mr. Savage to call the front desk. Luckily, as Sara had informed him, Savage was a narcissist, and the sound of his own name would always draw his attention. He stepped away from his companion and headed towards the hallway Sara had vanished into. Unfortunately, one of Savage's bodyguards followed him.

Leonard moved in, his phone in his pocket and his champagne in his hand. Cutting behind Savage, he slammed into the bodyguard, spilling alcohol all down the man's front.

"Damn," Leonard swore, affecting the slur of alcohol to accompany his laden breath. "So sorry, my good man. What a waste of good champagne!" He made sure to keep his face hidden from Savage behind him.

The bodyguard seemed torn between decking him and ignoring him, but Leonard heard Savage say, "It's fine, Charles. I'll just be a minute."

Resisting the urge to smirk, Leonard instead shoved a few bills into Charles's hand by way of apology, "Again, my fault. Send the bill for drycleaning up to Suite 418. I'll take care of it."

At the sight of cash and the lie of repayment, Charles relaxed and nodded, allowing Leonard to take his leave. He made sure Charles had turned away before following Savage and Sara.

Just behind the hallway doors was empty, but Leonard didn't take chances, pulling his gun and sealing the portal to the party. No one would be able to come in or out for some time now. He kept his weapon drawn, stalking down the hallway and looking for any sign of his partner.

A low chuckle sounded from in front of him and he knew it wasn't Sara.

"Clever, I have to admit. I didn't think anyone would pull something so simple." Savage's voice wasn't the cultured tone Leonard'd heard just moments ago, but a darker, more sinister snarl. He tightened his grip on his cold gun and sped up.

Sara didn't respond, but Leonard heard the sounds of a fight, low thuds and a muffled groan as a punch found it's mark. But he couldn't tell who was winning.

Rounding the corner, Leonard stilled on the spot.

Sara was fighting as he'd hadn't seen her move since the night of the Diamond Center. Every step she took was lethal, every blow a killing strike. If just one landed where it should, Savage would be dead. But the man moved like someone who was used to fighting for his life, dancing back and striking out with bare hands, rarely landing a hit, but still holding his own.

Savage laughed as Sara finally managed to score a line down his ribs, not deep enough to do much more than draw blood. She refused to fall back and Savage grabbed her wrist, hauling her in close.

"Oh, assassin," Savage hissed. "Trying again, are you?"

She twisted free and stepped back, trying to gain distance, but he followed. Sara lunged forward, her blade slicing through the air where he had been, close, but not close enough. Leonard aimed his gun, but couldn't fire, not when they were so entwined.

His movement drew Savage's attention, "And the criminal. Are you back to try to kill me again, Mr. Snart?"

Leonard frowned; what the hell did that mean? And how did he know his name?

Savage's smile grew wickedly pleased at Leonard's confusion, "Oh...don't tell me, assassin. He doesn't know yet? You went back that far?" He dodged another of Sara's movements, still grinning. "Why not bring your Mr. Snart from the future, unless…" Savage's glee was anything but humorous. "Oh, did you lose him? How tragic."

Sara snarled, "Shut up!" She went after him, but even Leonard could see that she was too angry now - caution and reason abandoned, she attacked without thought and Savage reached for his belt, out of her sight.

Leonard saw a blade and reacted. Running in, he grabbed Sara's arm and hauled her back, out of Savage's reach, firing his gun. Savage dodged, but Leonard's move forced him back. He and Sara stumbled back and Savage took the opportunity to run, heading towards the stairwell.

"No!" Sara screamed, fighting against Leonard's grip. "He's getting away!"

"He'll kill you!" He didn't step back as she turned on him, her eyes wild.

"I don't care!" She shoved him off and tried to run towards the stairs.

Leonard grabbed her hand, the momentum spinning her towards him, "I do!"

He held her eyes with his, seeing her realize the depth of his words. Silently, Leonard begged her to let go of the man she had lost and see him, instead.

Her eyes filled and she pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry." She moved past him, her hands gripping her knives.

"Is he really worth your life?" Leonard snapped after her, not talking about Savage.

"Yes." She didn't even think about it. She didn't hesitate at all. Didn't even consider him, not for one second. Her eyes were glimmering, pleading with him to understand.

He did. Of course he did. How could he compete with the man who'd given everything for her? How could he even begin to compare?

How could he be the man someone like Sara could fall in love with?

Leonard should have walked away. Left her to handle it on her own. That's what he would have done, weeks ago.

Instead, he tightened his grip on his gun and stalked past her. "Let's go."

She didn't love him, that was fine. But he wasn't going to let her die, either. Whether or not that made him an idiot, he wasn't sure he even cared anymore.


	11. But then it stopped

_**Hope the wait wasn't too unbearable. Enjoy!**_

* * *

 _"Why not bring the Mr. Snart from your future…"_

The words ran through Leonard's head as they raced up the stairwell. What the hell did Savage mean by that? The easiest answer was that Savage was insane, but that went up against everything he'd seen and heard about him. He wasn't insane, which meant that-

"Are you coming to kill me, assassin?" Savage taunted from somewhere above them.

Sara's teeth bared in a snarl, but Leonard held out his arm and fired upwards. Blue rays of frost arced up and there was the sudden thud of someone falling.

"Oh!" Savage laughed, breathless but still moving. "Well done, Mr. Snart!"

Sara launched herself up the stairs and Leonard had to run to keep up with her.

"Careful," he muttered uselessly.

They came out at the top of the landing, but there was no sign of Savage anywhere. Leonard's stomach churned, uneasiness sitting in him like rocks.

Sara, on the other hand, strode straight on ahead, gold edged blades glinting in the dark hallway, never faltering, so sure of her movements.

Insane confidence.

Deadly drive.

What would it be like to have someone care so much that they would go on such an insane mission? What would it be like to care about someone so much that it would drive him to be like this?

He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

Leonard was two steps behind her, his ears peeled for anything. Sara's fingers were white around her blades and he wasn't certain he'd be able to stop her from following Savage a second time. She seemed barely aware that he was behind her, but that didn't stop him from following. His eyes kept casting around the empty hallway, everything too quiet. No mocking comments from Savage, no alarms, no nothing. It didn't sit right and it made him nervous. He wasn't sure Sara noticed at all, but then he wasn't sure she could hear anything over her own fury.

Which is how he heard the cock of a gun.

"Sara!"

Leonard lunged forward, knocking Sara forward. Fire burst through his side and Leonard fell to his knees, his gun slipping out of his hands as he grabbed at his side. Sara went ashen and knelt next to him, holding his shoulders to keep him upright. "Len-"

Over her shoulder, Leonard could see Savage raising his gun, aiming at her back. With a pained effort, Leonard said, "Behind y-"

Sara grabbed his gun with an ease she shouldn't have, turning and firing in a smooth motion, barely reacting to the icy blue light. Savage swore and scurried away, leaving Sara and Leonard behind. His footsteps receded far beyond waiting to strike again, so Leonard figured that Sara had actually landed a hit. "Nice shooting, birdy."

He couldn't remain sitting up, and Sara eased him backwards to lie on the ground, leaning over him.

"Getting away," Leonard breathed, his voice sounding choked.

She ignored that, pressing her hands against his side. "Shh, don't try to talk."

"Savage-"

Sara met his eyes, no masks or deception, just straight out pain in the blue depths. "You're more important."

He smirked weakly, "'Bout time you noticed."

"Shut up, crook." Her face was wet with tears; he'd never seen her cry, except for when she talked about the man she lost, but here she was, crying over him.

He never thought he'd go with someone caring. He always thought he'd die alone. This was nicer. He kept his eyes on her face, trying to memorize it.

She fumbled at her waist, grabbing her phone and dialing, leaving red spots on the screen. A few moments of tense silence, then, "Rip! It's me. Leonard's been shot, I need-"

Rip interrupted her and Leonard smirked tiredly as her brows drew together and her voice colored in anger, "I don't give a damn what Gideon says, get us out of here and back to the ship!" He heard her give the address and then Sara hung up, putting her other hand over his and pressing it into his side.

He winced, the pain preferable to death, but only slightly. "Fuck, getting shot hurts."

"Tell me about it," Sara replied, with a wet laugh. It faded quickly and she stared down at him, "I'm so sorry, if I hadn't-"

"Shut up, assassin," he answered quietly. "Better me than you."

"I shouldn't have come to you, I should've-"

"Who else would you have gone to?" he mumbled, darkness appearing at the corner of his eyes. "I'm one hell of a thief."

"I can't lose you," she whispered, finally, _finally_ seeing him.

With a smirk on his face and Sara's focus on him, Leonard let the darkness take him under.

* * *

If he was dead, he was going to be pissed.

This hurt too much for some kind of eternal rest. He didn't feel rested. He felt exhausted and worn out, he felt too heavy and awkward, and over all of it, he hurt.

The last thing he remembered was getting shot and Sara-

Sara.

Cracking his eyes open, Leonard looked around for any sign of her, any sign of anyone, to see if he was in trouble or if she'd managed to get them out. They definitely weren't at his apartment, the industrial ceiling and glowing screens made that quickly clear.

No one was in the room, so he risked sitting up, ignoring the constant burning in his side. His dress shirt was stiff with dried blood, but only unbuttoned, so he could see the neat, small stitches that closed his wound. Buttoning just enough to keep it closed, his arm was tugged by the wires and tubes coming out. No bars or restraints, so wherever he was, they didn't mean to capture him. Probably didn't mean to hurt him, either. Otherwise, why waste the effort of fixing him up in the first place?

Still, he didn't trust "probably".

Yanking the wires out of his arm, he sat up and looked around, relieved when no alarms started going off, though the screen was blinking a rather angry red. On a chair next to him, he saw his suit jacket and, more interestingly, his cold gun. Standing required a bit more effort than usual, but he managed it. Attaching the gun to his holster, he slipped into the hallway and looked both ways, feeling too loud on the metal grating, but not encountering anyone.

The hallways were narrow, surrounded by metal on all sides. He saw words like cargo bay and numbers painted on the walls, the metal grating covering wires and tubes of varying sizes. Sara had mentioned a ship, was this it? He didn't feel any movement, not even the gentle rock of a docked boat. Perhaps it was too big. Still, something felt off.

Faintly, he heard footsteps approaching, just one set. Had he been in fine form, he wouldn't have hesitated, seeing as how he had his gun. But he wasn't sure he could lift it, let alone take on someone if they didn't go down the first time.

Glancing around, he considered his options, the footsteps getting nearer.

He ducked into a room as the footsteps rounded the corner, the door slipping shut behind him. Muffling a sigh of relief, he glanced around, ready to get back out-

Then paused.

Sitting on the table was his cold gun.

He didn't reach down to his leg to confirm that his gun was still there, but he thought about it. He could see the dents in the frame from where he used it to hit rather than shoot. He could see the scratches by the screws that held it together, the ones he'd made when he'd taken it apart to learn about it. That was his gun, no doubt about it. Not a replica, not a new model, but his gun. Taking two steps into the room, he looked over the space again, more carefully this time.

The bed wasn't made, the sheets sprawled out. He reached beneath the pillow, only slightly surprised to find a knife beneath it. When he pulled it out, he couldn't register enough shock that it was his knife. The one that was currently under his pillow at home.

His stomach was beginning to churn, but there was one sure-fire way to discover the truth. He walked over to the small dresser and opened the top drawer, reaching his hand back and up. If he had ever been here, the first thing he would have done is-

Leonard felt a small catch in the wood and pulled it. The false top popped out and he pulled out the shallow tray inside. He stared at the objects, trying to make sense of them. The one at home had small mementos, things that shouldn't matter, but did. The silver ring from his heist with Mick. The shiv that had almost killed him his first day in juvie, taken from the guy who'd tried to use it. A picture of Lisa from her first day of kindergarten, stolen from the school, seeing as how his parents never bought any pictures. A $100 bill from the heist that had landed him his first headline.

In this one, he didn't recognize anything, but they all seemed like things he would have taken. A cap from what looked like a bottle of good vodka. A knife that was far too slim to be one of his, but looked vaguely familiar. A crumpled bill of some sort of currency he didn't recognize. A formed chunk of some dark metal, armor, perhaps? A photograph. He turned it over.

It was a picture of him sitting on a chair in some large, open room. He was speaking to someone out of the picture, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. Sara was sitting next to him on the floor, leaning against his leg, dark bottle in hand, looking up at him with a grin. Mick was leaning on the back on his chair, his stoic face cracking into a smile. Leonard stared at his own face in the picture, there was a level of comfort that he had never seen. That he'd never had. And he didn't remember it happening.

Putting the fake top back in the drawer, he stepped back from the desk.

 _"Why not bring the Mr. Snart from your future…"_

Shoving the drawer closed a little harder than necessary, Leonard stepped back and stared around the room that belonged to him, but didn't.

It wasn't possible.

Leaving the room, regardless of what waited for him outside, seemed like the best option. Leonard slipped out silently, luckily finding the hallway empty. He strode quickly down the hall, not entirely sure what he expected to find. What he wanted to find.

He passed a door that read, "Cell Block" and paused. Jax had mentioned a guest, making it sound like a prisoner, so Leonard hesitated. Sara had seemed more concerned about the safety of the prisoner, so…

Throwing caution to the wind, Leonard stepped through the cell block doors.

He stilled just inside the door, everything he thought he knew, everything he thought he trusted, vanishing with the sight that lay before him.

The figure in the cell moved, stood, and approached the clear walls.

"'Bout time you showed up, boss."

* * *

Leonard stared at Mick in the cell, his fists bruised and knuckles bloody, but no other signs of injury.

"Mick, what the hell-"

The door opened behind him and Leonard turned, seeing Sara in the doorway. She took a few steps towards him, her face breaking out in a relieved smile, "Len, I've been looking-"

She broke off, glancing between him and Mick, and the smile faded.

Any hopeful, misguided doubt that Sara hadn't had a hand in this vanished with her expression. It wasn't shock or dismay, it was guilt. Something cracked in Leonard's chest, but he ignored it.

Sara opened her mouth to say something - who knew what in the world she could say, to explain this - but before she could speak, footsteps sounded from without.

"Ms. Lance!" Rip shouted, he came into the room, "Mr. Snart is-"

He stopped, but his shouting had drawn others. In came Ray, Martin, a teenage kid, and, behind them-

Mick.

Leonard stared at the big man, seeing his friend, but seeing someone different, too. This man wasn't seething anger and resentment, not a raging inferno, but rather a low, constant burn. A controlled fire, all the power but less of the recklessness. The lines on his face were deeper, not necessarily with age, but with something else. Leonard watched the way Mick came up behind Sara, standing behind her the way he'd stood behind Leonard so many times before.

Behind him, he heard the muttered curse of the other - real? - Mick, "What the fuck…"

Sara's Mick - the not-Mick - eyed the situation, "Guess this went tits up."

Leonard stared at Mick and the not-Mick. His hands clenched around the gun that he still held aimed to the ground. "What is this?" he hissed.

"I can explain," Sara started to say.

"They kidnapped me!" Mick snarled, glaring at the not-Mick. "They've had me in there for weeks! Blondie over there caught me outside the bar and since then-"

"You." Leonard turned on Sara, meeting her eyes. "You kidnapped my partner, to get me to believe your story? To get me to call you in?"

"Len-"

He lifted his cold gun and aimed it at her, icy rage pouring through his veins. Old Leonard wouldn't have hesitated to pull the trigger. But hesitate he did. "You played me, Lance. I'll give you that. Nicely done." She'd played him, alright. But it went far beyond letting her into his crew. She'd smiled and lied and danced her way right into his heart. He should have known better. He'd called it, that first night they met.

Too good to be true.

Sara took a step towards him, never looking at the gun. "This isn't what it looks like, I promise. It's-"

"You promise," Leonard cut in harshly, his usual mocking, detached tone sounding anything but. "You and your promises."

"You don't understand," she said. "Please-"

"If someone doesn't start giving me answers, I'm going to bust heads!" Mick shouted, slamming his fists onto the glass, a baseless threat.

Not-Mick retorted, "Get a grip." He turned to Rip, "Was I really that bad?"

Rip ignored him, "Mr. Snart-"

The gun shifted towards him, his wound making the effort almost unbearable, but he did it anyway.

"Come on, Snart," Ray said. "Don't do this."

"Start explaining," Leonard snarled.

"We can't," Martin said, "it's too dangerous."

"The timeline-"

"The future-"

"We're time travelers." Sara stepped forward, raising her voice over the noise.

Leonard stared at her, waiting for the punchline, but she wasn't smiling. No one was, not even a tiny bit.

"Ms. Lance," Martin began, "I don't think-"

"We travel through time and we were tracking down Savage," Sara spoke over him, stepping forward and brushing off Rip's hand as he tried to restrain her. "We defeated him, but a teammate died."

"You," not-Mick said, following Sara further into the room. "You died saving us."

"I'm clearly not dead," Leonard snapped. "And I would never-"

"Step in the way to save a teammate?" Sara asked.

He stared at her, remembering how he'd done exactly that for her. Without hesitation. More than once. "Time travel is a myth."

"It very much isn't, Mr. Snart," Rip said, with a resigned sigh. He pressed a button and Mick's cell opened. The arsonist made a move to go after them, but Leonard held up his hand. "A few years from now, I will come looking for heroes to help me on my mission to defeat Savage. You and Mr. Rory will be two. You join and become part of this team."

"Fat chance," Mick growled.

"I'm no hero," Leonard retorted, but he lowered the barrel of his cold gun slightly.

Ray's smile was strained. "That's what you said the first time, too. But you became one. Working with us."

He shook his head, but he couldn't deny that none of them were lying to him. In fact, this was the first time he'd ever seen Sara be so honest, though it was about something completely impossible. But he'd heard what Savage said, he'd seen Sara know things she shouldn't - his father, Alexa, his sister - "I've never seen you before this. I don't-"

"But we know you," not-Mick said. "Come on, boss. You think we could make this shit up? How do you explain me?"

Leonard stared at him. He couldn't explain him. How there was a Mick behind him and a Mick in front of him, looking far more aged and weathered. How could he have gotten older? How could there be two? Unless…

"This is a bunch of shit," Mick said from behind him. "This is impossible."

Leonard had seen the gun, the knife, the mementos of his time here that he hadn't yet experienced. It wasn't a trick, but it also couldn't be true.

"You have men with lightning fast speed and talking gorillas in your city," Ray argued, "but you draw the line at time travel?"

"Len," Sara said, drawing his attention once more. Her eyes were ablaze with a passion that he'd only seen when she talked about...

If he died saving her in the future, then the man she had lost, the one she'd loved but never told, the man she was risking everything for, it was-

"We're leaving," he announced. "If you try to stop us-"

"We're not going to stop you, Mr. Snart," Rip said quietly.

"And we're not gonna hurt you either," not-Mick muttered. "Went through all this shit to save you, asshole."

"Come on, boss," Mick said from behind. "Let's go."

Leonard lowered his gun but didn't power it down, the humming the only sound as he and Mick walked through the people Leonard thought he could trust. Sara kept her eyes on him, but he didn't speak to her, he didn't look at her.

If he did, he might buy their bullshit story.

If he did, he might not go.

If he did, he'd die, just as his future self did.

Too many years of protecting himself at the expense of most others in the world was hard to shake and he didn't try. If she said something, he might have found it harder to resist, but she didn't speak.

So he didn't stay.

* * *

 _ **Don't be mad. This is longer than I had originally meant to post, so it might have been worse!**_

 _ **I swear, this is a fixit fic. And it will be. Eventually.**_

 _ **As always, thanks for reading.**_


	12. And I was in the darkness

**Sorry for the minor delay in the upload. I got a puppy this week and he's been consuming my every waking moment. Happily, but also very busily.**

 **If you've noticed, I've upped the rating a tad. It's probably a very light M by the end of this...**

* * *

Leonard sat at the bar table, several empty glasses between him and Mick. Not enough belonged to the bigger man.

"You okay?" Mick asked, as Leonard slammed back another drink.

"Peachy," he spat out, signaling for another one. He was wildly out of place in this bar in his bloodied suit, but the second Leonard walked in, his glare and expression made it clear that no one - absolutely no one - wanted to speak to him.

Mick stared at him, concern looking uncomfortable on his face. In order to avoid it, Leonard spoke first. "What happened to you?"

"Blondie got me outside the bar," Mick said, glancing at him. "Knocked me out. When I woke up, I was in that cell."

"After you came to talk to me?"

Mick frowned, "No, I was on my way in."

So it was the not-Mick. Telling him he was a hero because he'd apparently just died. Wonderful. So glad he was that easy to dupe. "What'd they want?"

"Nothing, far as I could tell. Never asked me about anything." He picked up his drink and drained it, but didn't ask for another when Leonard's drink arrived. "Fed me. Chatted about nothing when I wasn't threatening to kill them."

"But you told them things." Please, let him have said something, anything to explain how she'd known so much. Anything to deny what was apparently the only possible explanation.

"Like what?"

"Alexa. My father."

Mick shook his head slowly, "No, boss. I didn't."

"Nothing at all?"

Another shake of his head.

"And Sara?"

Mick looked up at him. "Didn't see her after she brought me in. Not until today."

"They didn't hurt you, didn't question you, didn't do anything except…"

"Trap me." Mick filled in, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Only reason why'd they do that is so you were working solo."

So he'd be forced to call Sara and take her deal.

"What'd they want from you, boss?"

To save him. The future him. The one Sara cared about.

It was him, the man she'd done all this for was him. Every time he asked about him, she'd been telling him about his future self. Every time she swore to avenge him, it was on his future self's account. Every thing she'd known about him - serial numbers, his codeword for trouble, his childhood, his father - he'd told her in the future.

When she'd talked about loving someone and never saying anything, it was who he would become.

"I don't know." He picked up his glass and Mick's mouth closed.

It was another hour or two before Mick finally called it. He hesitated before asking if Leonard would be alright to walk home.

"I'm not a drunk sorority girl, Mick," Leonard retorted. Truth was, the frustration and anger had worn away most of the alcohol and he was far more sober than he wanted to be.

The walk back was cold. Usually he hated the cold, despite his choice of weapon, he preferred to be warm, but it drove away the rest of the haze and chilled his anger. By the time he reached his building, he was calmer, if not calm.

He went up to his room and changed, the bloodied shirt and jacket getting tossed to the floor as he pulled on a comfortable sweater and jeans.

However, the idea of staying in his apartment wasn't very appealing. He climbed up the fire escape, stepping into the cold night air. He breathed in, wondering if his chest would ever stop feeling so tight, if he'd ever be able to breathe without it catching.

He stared out over his city, the place he'd spent his life crawling and clawing to be at the top of. And he'd done it. There wasn't a man, woman or child out there who didn't know the name of Captain Cold.

He was strong. He was infamous. He was everything he'd wanted to be in life. Every goal he'd wanted as a child had been attained. So why, then, did he feel so incomplete?

Damn, but he knew why. Of course he did.

It wasn't fair.

Scoffing at his own idiocy, Leonard shook his head and went to the edge of the roof, placing his hands on the low wall and staring out over the drop. Of course it wasn't fair, nothing in life was. Why would this be? Why wouldn't he find the perfect woman, only to have already lost her? To his future self, nonetheless. Par for the fucking course.

But he couldn't entirely blame her. He was the one who'd walked away, hadn't he? He was the one who'd turned his back on her. Granted, she'd lied to him, but hadn't he done everything to keep her at an arm's distance? Hadn't his entire life been an act, a play of words and emotions and expressions to make sure that no one got in too close? Hadn't she been doing exactly the same? They both kept each other away because the alternative hurt too much. Figures the woman he fell for was just as broken as him.

He had walked away and she had left. And now-

"Len?"

He froze, staring into the black, hating that she was able to surprise him like this. Faint footsteps approached, made loud enough for his benefit. A heavy gaze was on his shoulders, but he didn't turn.

Maybe he'd had too much to drink after all.

"Don't give me the cold shoulder," she said quietly, sounding too close.

He turned, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms immediately, putting up his walls despite the fact that they were paper thin and shredded when it came to her.

It was Sara. Of course it would be. Her, in her too-large jacket and dark jeans, golden hair and those damn sapphire blue eyes that were just staring at him.

Wasn't leaving once enough? Now they'd have to go through this shit all over again.

"Back from the future already?" he drawled, setting the tone before she could work her way under his skin. "That doesn't exactly bode well." He grinned coldly, "Of course, I'm dead in your future, so what does another trip matter?"

She frowned at his tone, eyes narrowing when he spoke of his death. "I'm tying up loose ends." She held up a small vial with a white pill in it.

"Here to kill me?" he drawled, arching his brow.

"To let you forget."

He eyed the pill - it would make him forget, huh? That did sound appealing. However, "Is there a choice in the matter?"

"For Mick, no. He's already been dosed," she said it quickly, not denying what she did, but getting it over with. Leonard couldn't bring himself to be surprised. It made sense, if they wanted Mick to go along with the path they were supposed to take later on.

"And me?"

"That's up to you," Sara said, pocketing the vial.

"Why does my preference matter?"

"It matters because I'm still here."

With an arched brow, he didn't lower himself to ask what she meant, but she answered anyway.

"Messing with the timeline is complicated," she said, keeping her distance from him. "With the way things ended up, Mick wasn't going to join. We needed him to forget. But you...it seemed like you wouldn't join either. Which means that I should have been back home. Or dead."

He didn't react, not knowing if she was baiting him or not.

"If you don't join," she continued, "I shouldn't remember you."

He hadn't realized that. If she killed Savage, then they wouldn't join to kill him in the future, which meant the Legends would never form. He and Sara would never meet. That's what Jax was talking about. If she'd succeeded, they never would have met. Was his life really worth changing all of that?

"Clearly, you do," he retorted. "So why come back here? Figure you're going to risk the timeline a second time?"

She took a step forward and he stiffened. Noticing, she stopped and dropped her voice. "I came back because none of that happened. The timeline hasn't changed. Which means you still join the Legends, even after everything, even knowing everything. I have to leave tomorrow, so I thought that maybe you...maybe we could talk, if you don't want to forget."

He didn't want to forget, he didn't think. He didn't know what he wanted, but it wasn't forgetting.

Sara took his silence as tacit agreement. "So it wasn't the time travel that threw you," Sara said, eyeing him. She started moving, but parallel to him, rather than towards him. "I don't even think seeing two Micks threw you, either."

"Remind me to get even with you for that." He kept his eyes on her, turning to keep her in front of him.

"I didn't want to hurt him," she sounded sad then. "I'd never want to hurt him. He's my friend. But I did need him out of the way."

"Right."

"I needed to work with you."

"So you could kill Savage."

"No, to-"

"To get your revenge." His voice was rising, his infamous control just a myth when he faced her.

"To save you!" she shouted.

"To save _him_!" Leonard corrected, pushing away from the wall and taking a step forward. His voice echoed across the roof, the truth falling between their silence, heavy and pained.

Her eyes narrowed, "That's your issue, isn't it? It's not the time travel, or Mick, or even that I'm from your future, but because I cared enough to come back for yo-"

"Not me," Leonard interrupted, with a raised finger. "I am not him. And your Snart-" he choked on those words, on how much he wanted to rearrange them, on how much he wanted to change them, "-isn't me."

"You will be."

He glared, "You don't know that. You could've changed it."

"You're still you."

His eyes rolled back so far he wondered that they didn't fall out.

"Leonard," Sara said, finally moving forward. He didn't back up, didn't give her the satisfaction. "Just because you haven't done the things that you will do, it doesn't mean you aren't the same person."

"We're products of our experiences, Lance. You can't argue otherwise." She was quiet and he, belatedly, realized he would have loved if she had argued. But they both knew he was right. He hated being right all the time. "I didn't experience the things that made him your Snart. Ergo, I can't b-"

"You're an asshole," Sara interrupted. "You're cold. You're sarcastic and cynical."

He didn't deny any of that.

"Sounds like Leonard Snart to me."

Sara started walking towards him, still talking. "You look like him. You speak like him. You move like him. You think like him."

She reached out for his hand and Leonard finally stepped away. "But I'm not. I'm not him."

Leonard wished that he was. He wished he was the man she'd risk so much for. He wished he was the one she dreamed about, that he was the one she really wanted. But he wasn't. If he wasn't going to pretend otherwise, he wouldn't allow her to, either.

He didn't want to play second fiddle, not even to himself.

"I know," she said immediately. When he just stared at her, Sara took a half step towards him. "I know you're not him. And I hated you for that, at first."

Face carefully blank, he tried to ignore the way her head tilted up at him, none of the lines he'd grown used to seeing on her face. She wasn't lying.

"You're the same man. But so different," her brows drew together. "He was cautious. Aloof. Hesitant."

Leonard frowned. Cautious he could deal with. Aloof he could enjoy. But hesitant?

Dropping her eyes, she reached out and traced the scars around his wrist, her finger like a electric current. He fought the urge to move away. And the urge to move closer. "You're more reckless than he was. You enjoy it all more than he seemed to. I saw you with your sister and in your element. You're willing to take chances. You've got your ice up, but it's not so thick." She looked up. "I came into this in love with him. I know you're different than him. I do."

"Sara," he murmured. He didn't know what he was asking. For her to keep talking or for her to stop before it was too late.

"I loved him," she said quietly. "But somewhere, I fell in love with you, too."

He swallowed and, for the briefest moment, relished in this feeling. Of being someone's choice, of being cared about.

And then he really thought about her words. The woman he thought was unattainable, the one who he thought he'd never have a chance with, was here, for him. Who the hell would've seen that coming?

"And tomorrow?" he asked, staring at her, nothing else on this roof - in this city - on the whole goddamn planet - capable of holding his attention like the sapphires in front of him.

Sara didn't lie. Not anymore. "Tomorrow I have to go. My timeline is coming up and current me has a lot to do before we meet again."

Leonard nodded shortly, exhaling. "Right. So, then."

She didn't move. "So."

"I guess this is goodbye. For now." He edged closer, his skin humming as he neared her.

"For now," she repeated quietly, tilting her head back to look up at him. Her blue eyes looked black.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, lingering, his hands held tightly at his sides. Pulling away, he closed his eyes, his tongue darting out to sample the taste of Sara before she vanished again. He didn't think it would be possible, but leaving this time would be even worse than before. Leaving the almost he could have had. The almost they could have been.

"Goodbye, Sara," he murmured next to her ear.

Her whisper sent a shiver down his spine, "Goodbye, Leonard."

Stepping back, he forced himself to turn and head to the fire escape. His fists were clenched at his sides with the effort of not grabbing her hand and towing her with him. Walking away from her was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but if he didn't...

What if he didn't?

Screw the timeline and screw the rules. Who knew what would happen - they'd changed time already, so why not?

Leonard turned, her name on his lips.

But Sara was right there behind him, grabbing his jacket and pulling him down to her level and-

Nothing had ever burned as beautifully as Sara. She kissed him like her life depended on it, and he wasn't far behind her. He wrapped his arms around her before he could ever register doing it. She made a sound in the back of her throat, something between a gasp and a sob, as his hand carded through her hair and cradled her head. Neither of them were pulling away, oxygen secondary to this painful ecstasy.

He could die a happy man, if he went with Sara on his lips.

It was only when his vision began to dim that she finally pulled away, just enough to breathe. Both of them were gasping, hot breaths against his mouth doing nothing to quell the fire.

"What about your timeline?" he whispered, his voice raspy and dark. Despite his question, he didn't let go of her, his arm tight around her waist and his free hand tilting her chin up to his face. He never wanted to let go of her, but he rarely got what he wanted.

Sara looked up at him, her pupils blown out and her lashes damp, but seeing him. Him, not the future him, not the memory of him, but _him_ , right now. "We've got tonight."

That wasn't nearly enough, a lifetime wouldn't be enough, but he would take every second he could.

They climbed down the fire escape and in through Leonard's window. He shut it, then faced her, the sudden silence and darkened room making things awkward for a moment. He could hear her breathing and his own heartbeat in his ears. It wasn't like him to be nervous. It wasn't like him for his hands to be shaking. It wasn't like him for his chest to feel constricted, for it to feel like his heart was wrapped up in her delicate, dangerous fingers, for him to feel so terrified and yet so certain.

Like with so many things, Sara seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, perhaps because it was what was running though her head, too. She crossed the distance between them, shucking off her overlarge blue coat and letting it fall to the floor with a muffled thump. His eyes darted over her face as she took the edges of his coat in her hands, gently easing it over his shoulders and onto the ground. So many things were written on her expression - happiness, excitement, desire - but over it all, sorrow. He didn't want that.

Her hands were on his chest, just over his pounding heart. Leonard dragged his fingers up her arm to her wrist, encircling the delicate bones with his hand. "Forget about everything else, birdy. You and I are here. Right now."

She smiled, but it was still there, that sadness. That grief.

He didn't want to see it, but at the same time, he knew it was all for him and he couldn't help but care for her just a little bit more.

Still, he couldn't have her looking like this. Not here. Not after everything.

He stepped into her space, pulling her hand up to his lips and kissing her wrist. "I told you, I've spent my life taking things that were beautiful, just for me." He dropped her hand and placed his hand in the small of her back, holding her against him. Ever so slowly, delicately, like cracking a safe, he began to kiss along Sara's neck, graphing her reactions, memorizing the way she moved against him and the sounds he elicited. "Do you think I'm going to let you go after tonight, just because it'll be different?"

" _I'll_ be different," she reminded him, a little breathlessly, he was pleased to note. "I won't be the same person."

Sliding his hands up the back of her shirt, he nipped at her collarbone, "I can handle a bit of a challenge. Seem to remember you doing it for me." He pulled away slightly to look into her eyes. "Think it wasn't worth it?"

Shaking her head, she grasped at his sweater, stretching up so her lips grazed his jaw. "You're worth it."

"I'm a greedy, selfish crook." He leaned back and away, though it took every bit of his effort, taunting, teasing just enough so that her eyes sparked and the corner of her mouth began to lift.

Sara grabbed two handfuls of his sweater and pushed him back, until he hit the closed window with a rattle of glass and a smothered grunt. Up on her toes, she got her eyes level with his, and said, "And I'm a selfish, soulless assassin. So don't press your luck."

His grin should have felt out of place, should have felt wrong after everything, in the face of everything that would come. Instead, like all the impossibilities that Sara brought with her, it seemed right.

She leaned into him and he pressed his fingers into her back, pulling her closer, heat sparking with every inch of her that was up against him. She kissed him with the same intensity that she fought with and he matched her, inch for inch, move for move. His hand threaded up into that silken gold, while the other slid beneath the dark top, feeling the muscles and corded scars that ran across her body. Long fingers followed them along her skin as far as he could reach, memorizing with his hands until he could see. Her lips parted - a gasp, a quip, a comment - he didn't care to know just then. Plundering her mouth, he tasted every corner, ignoring her attempts to gain control and instead took - took - _took_.

He was a thief. She knew what she was getting into.

Besides, from the way her hands had slid up beneath his sweater and shirt, nails scraping over his own marks of adolescence, from the way the heat was growing where his thigh had pressed between her legs, from the way she leaned into him, any space between them an eternity too much, she didn't seem to mind.

Before now, he would have thought that kissing Sara would have been enough and it was - until it suddenly wasn't. He needed more, and from the insistent press of her hips against his, so did she. Breaking away for a moment, he allowed a smug chuckle when Sara whimpered and tried to follow him. Her eyes snapped open at the sound he made and she narrowed her eyes, smile still present, though now on lips that were swollen and far more tempting.

Leonard should have asked if she was sure, if she wanted to stop. He didn't. He couldn't. He was too far gone, had been since she appeared on his roof.

Fuck it, he had been too far gone since the first time he'd seen her fight, if not before then.

He tugged her shirt over her head, greedy eyes drinking up every inch of scarred, marked, beautiful skin, his fingers itching to trace every line, to rewrite the lines of pain beneath his palms into something better. As her hair fell down around her face, he saw a faint tremor of embarrassment, just a flash, but enough to make him pause. His hands wrapped around her hips, drawing circles just above her jeans, but calming them enough that he could speak.

"Nervous?" he murmured, his drawl sounding warmer and less detached than he'd ever heard it before.

"Hardly." She glared at him, her arms twitching but remaining down at her sides, not making an attempt to cover herself. His hands may have paused, but his eyes were still moving and he made no attempt to hide it.

"Liar." He popped the button on her jeans and she nearly flinched. "It's not like this is anything new. For you, at least."

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, stilling him and drawing his eyes up to hers. "It's new for me, too."

That stopped him. "You never-"

"We kissed. Once."

The way she said it made it clear that it had been just before the end. His end. Pushing that aside, Leonard couldn't help but feeling slightly pleased. This would be one thing he had over his future self. It also meant he had to set the bar.

Cupping her cheek, he tilted her chin up to him. Slowly, every so achingly slowly, he pressed his lips to hers, trading the frenzied fire of earlier for something no less intense, but far slower, far deeper, far more meaningful.

He was the master of slowing things down.

Languorously, he moved against her, Sara falling back to meet his tempo. He didn't stop, they were both too anxious for that, but instead of tearing off the rest of her clothes - still an option - he peeled them off, inch by excruciating inch. With every new bit of her that was exposed, Leonard's hands, lips, teeth, discovered and learned everything she had to offer. Soon, and ages later, he'd moved them back, laying her down on the dark blue sheets and leaning over her.

She'd gone soft and warm beneath his glacial slowness, allowing him to lead. As much as he loved the fire and the fighter, this Sara gave him a whole new perspective. Not that she was an inactive participant, but she seemed content to go where he lead, for the moment, at least.

When he finally drew back, Sara was breathless and he wasn't much better. She opened her eyes and he nearly came undone, the blue swallowed up by black, skin flushed and lips parted.

Then her eyes trailed down and flashed in annoyance when she realized he was still almost completely dressed. In a flash, the content Sara was gone and the fighter had twisted her leg in his and flipped them, so she was sitting low on his hips.

"Dirty trick, Canary." His complaint was without any true merit. He was quite happy beneath her.

"And you, Captain," she said, grabbing his sweater and hauling him upright, "are a tease." As soon as she'd pulled the sweater and shirt off over his head, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned up to kiss her again. Their slow pace had done nothing but build the passion even higher. She managed to undo the buttons between them, kicking off his jeans with talented feet and his unhelpful attempts at distracting her. Once that was done, she pressed him down, back against the bed and sat back for a moment, her eyes tracing the nightmares on his skin, hesitating on the new one from earlier. There wasn't a flicker of pity or sorrow. Just understanding and acceptance.

Gently, her fingers traced over one white line that crossed down over his shoulder and chest, curving in a gentle arc above his heart. "This one?"

"Someone brought a knife to a gunfight," he said, watching her face, rather than her fingers. He didn't need to, he could track the movement by the faint fire she left behind. It wasn't the worst scar on his front and one of the few that didn't have to do with his father. A straight-up brawl - the first he'd been in after he got the cold gun. The first time the papers used his moniker, the first time he'd truly been Captain Cold.

Before he realized what had happened, Sara had left his hips and stood next to the bed, turning her back to him and moving her hair aside. He sat up, confused, and for a moment he didn't see what she was showing him; he was too distracted of the image of Sara, swathed only in starlight.

Then he saw the line that went over Sara's back, from her left shoulder, curving down towards her spine. Getting to his feet and standing behind her, he ran his fingers down the line, not for the first time tonight. "This one?" he asked, his question making her hair move.

She didn't turn around. "I brought a knife to a sword fight."

"When?" He didn't know why he asked.

"A sword, right after I became the Canary."

He ran his fingers down it again, staring at his own.

"They match," she said simply.

Yes, they did. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips against her shoulder, inadvertently - inescapably? - pressing their matching scars against each other. They were nearly identical, scant millimeters of difference. Sara ran her hands over his, not speaking.

When she turned in his arms, he didn't move just yet, wanting to memorize this, gold and gemstones looking up, the adrenaline of a thousand motorcycle rides caught in her smile, the thrill of danger and power in the silken steel beneath his fingers.

He had to remember, because it would have to last until he found her again.

For once in his life, Leonard Snart didn't back away and take the easy way out, he didn't put up the walls that would keep him from being hurt. For once, the pain was worth it.

"Sara," he murmured, the words he wanted to say catching in his throat from disuse. He couldn't get them out.

The smile softened and glowed, lighting her up from within. "I know, crook."

The woman who understood, without him needing to say anything.

And when he closed the final distance between them, when Sara whispered his name and he groaned hers, everything he couldn't say came through in the way he held her, in the way she looked at him, in the way this felt like the home he never had. When she came apart around him, it was a more beautiful sight than the most overflowing vault. When she said his name, it was far more satisfying than any headline he'd been featured in. When she pressed a kiss against his lips, it was far sweeter than any successful heist he'd pulled.

This was worth the pain that would come tomorrow. The years he'd have to spend waiting. The death that was inevitable in his future. He would pay any price for this.

Sara was worth it.


	13. So darkness I became

A little shorter, but I hope this is okay.

Happy New Year!

* * *

"How does it happen?"

He asked her sometime later, when they're finally able to breathe, when he's satisfied, not sated, but able to think of something other than the taste of Sara's skin. They're curled beneath his blankets, the first time he's ever shared this bed with someone.

The last time, he thought.

It was strange - and not - the way Sara curled into him without making him move in any way. She adapted around him, not asking him to shift or change. She didn't just tolerate that he was a thief, she accepted it. Others he had been with tried to change who he was, tried to make him something he wasn't. That wasn't the case now. She didn't try to change him. Didn't want to change him.

Sara, her head against his chest, exhaled slowly. They both know what he meant.

"You stay behind to set off a bomb. Has to be held in manually, at the Vanishing Point. Mick was going to do it, but you take his place after knocking him out."

And forcing her to take Mick to safety, he now understands. He doesn't know what everything means, but he can gather enough.

"You kill the men who hurt Mick," she adds. "The men who let Savage go loose. The ones who killed Rip's family. You save everyone."

He ran his fingers up her arm, not having anything to say to that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his skin.

"Why?"

Her voice sounds thicker and he's glad he can't see her face. "I was supposed to kill Savage, so that you wouldn't die. Instead-"

"Instead," he interrupted, sitting up slightly. The movement forced her to lie back on the pillow as he leaned up on one arm over her. "Instead, we get a little more time."

She stared up at him. "But you still-"

"I'm here. Now." Her hands were distracting on his back, but he could tell she was listening.

"Len, the future-"

"Is tomorrow." He leaned down, slanting his mouth over hers. Sara responded eagerly, willing to table this discussion for the diversion. Fingers slid up his back, pulling him nearer. They ignored tomorrow for sake of living in the moment, the only moment that mattered right now.

It was some time later before either of them had the interest or presence of mind to speak again. Leonard had gotten up to make coffee, the silent decision between them not to sleep at all making caffeine necessary. He threw on a pair of jeans before getting the drinks - not due to modesty, but because of hot beverages - and returned to see Sara sitting up in bed, only covered in a sheet. It was quite the sight and he stopped in the doorway to appreciate it.

She didn't notice for a moment, but when she looked up and saw him watching, she smiled gently. "What're you doing?"

"Enjoying the view." He returned to the bed, passing over the coffee. She curled her fingers around the mug, leaning into him as he sat up against the headboard. The ease with which she settled against him should've sent a spiral of discomfort through him. Instead, he put his arm over her shoulders, tucking her more firmly against him.

"We need to talk," she said quietly.

Leonard smirked faintly, unsurprised.

She sipped the coffee, buying time, then said, "In the future-"

"Enough, birdy," he said firmly.

She turned slightly to face him, a frown on her face and her brows drawn. "No, it's not enough. I was supposed to save you and I've done _nothing_. If I don't-"

"You saved Lisa. You saved me. You changed the past already, just by being here." He paused, waiting for her to interrupt. Miraculously, she was quiet. "You've proven the timeline isn't set in stone."

"Time wants to happen."

"I never was a big believer in destiny," he retorted. "I make my own choices. Whatever that leads me to is because that's what I wanted. What I chose. No one is going to tell me how I live my life but me."

Sara stared at him, still uncharacteristically quiet. Gone were the shadows from her eyes and she instead was watching him with something like wonder.

"What?" he drawled, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

"I love you."

Though other words and phrases had come close, this was the first time she'd actually said that particular combination. It threw him a little, the air in his lungs seeming insufficient. He inhaled slowly, very conscious of the hot coffee in one hand, slowly scalding his hand, and Sara's skin beneath the other, doing very much the same.

She smiled at his silence, with no friction or discomfort. "Relax, crook. You don't need to say anything. I just wanted you to know."

"I know."

Sara put the coffee on the nightstand, taking his from his hands as well. She turned, settling onto his lap, her arms loose around his shoulders.

"You're brave," she said, that easy smile making the compliment palatable, and the kiss she pressed to his temple doubly so. "You're smart."

"Brilliant," he corrected.

"Arrogant." She grinned.

"Realistic." His hands slid up her thighs slowly.

Her smirk told him she wasn't going to be distracted so easily, "You're handsome."

Leonard went with his initial reaction of a shrug and acknowledgment of the fact, but he couldn't help but add, "Old." It didn't seem to bother her and it rarely made any difference to him, but he couldn't help but notice the many years that separated them.

"Older," she acquiesced, her hands running over his short, silver and dark hair. Sharp contrast to the vibrant gold in front of him. "But age doesn't really matter when you live our kinds of lives."

He had to admit that she was right. She'd seen more in her few years than most people saw in a lifetime.

When she saw he wasn't going to argue again, she continued, her hands moving over his shoulders and down his arms. "You're good in a fight." He arched a brow as her hands covered his. "You're one hell of a thief."

There was a faint shift in her tone and her fingers stilled, lacing with his. "Long before the Vanishing Point, you saved me. And now, you've saved me again."

He didn't quite understand, but he was quiet and allowed her to say the things she'd clearly been wanting to for some time.

"You are a crook and a thief," she said, raising her eyes to his. "And you're my hero, Leonard Snart."

When she kissed him, he was willing to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could be right.

* * *

They stayed up to see the sky began to lighten, the sun rising up and bringing with it the next morning. Without speaking, Sara pressed a kiss to his lips and got out of bed, pulling on her jeans and sweater. Leonard did the same, sitting down to tie his boots. His body ached in the best possible way - it had been a long time, if ever, that he'd had such a night. Less appealing was the way his chest was starting to hurt, but he ignored it.

They climbed back up to the roof, out in the gray morning light, above the rest of the world. She turned to face him, an attempt at a smile on her face.

He didn't try to fake one. It wouldn't pass muster.

"So," she said, rubbing her arms.

"Any final comments?" he drawled.

Sara shrugged, a little helplessly. "I'm don't know- oh." She cocked her head to the side. "I die."

Leonard's brow rose. "Come again?" It didn't come out as calmly as he wanted it to.

"I die, for a while," she repeats. "But I come back." Her hand ran over her stomach and Leonard remembered the puckered scars he'd seen.

"You damn well better," he muttered.

Sara smiled, cocking her head towards him. "I will. Promise."

"Don't make promises you can't-"

"I don't."

He allowed that one to pass, half because he didn't want to argue and half because of the burst of air that engulfed the roof. Squinting up, he saw nothing but a faint shimmer, but he could hear the hum of an engine. Sara's smile set him at ease, though it was starting to have that tint of sorrow again.

"Your ride?" he asked.

She nodded as the loud noise lowered to the roof of the building next door before turning her eyes to him. "Guess this is it, crook."

"So long, assassin." Stay cold, stay distant. Far too late, but old habits die hard.

She rolled her eyes at him, crossing the small distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck. Leonard held steady for a moment, then gave in to temptation and gathered her up in a close embrace.

"Sara," he murmured against her neck. He couldn't say the words, it just wasn't something he did, but he wanted her to know-

"I know."

It wasn't good enough. It wasn't enough at all.

There was only one thing he could say. He pulled back slightly, tracing his thumb gently along the curve of her cheek.

"The future. What happens? I'm going to change it." He caught her eyes, sapphires, in his and said words he swore he never would. Thought he never should, until her. "I promise."

He kissed her for the last - her last, not his, he decided - time. She leaned into it, her hand fisting in his sweater. Despite the timing, despite the audience, despite this ending, he kept it gentle and slow, full of the potential that they could have had.

 _Will_ have.

He broke away first, otherwise he might not be able to at all. Sara exhaled, pressing her head against his chest for a moment before stepping back. She made a valiant effort, her mouth lifted up in a half smile, even as her eyes shimmered slightly. "Don't make promises you can't keep, crook," she whispered. She backed away to the side of the building, getting ready to leave.

"Birdy," he called, taking a step after her.

Sara looked back at him, and he indulged his theatricality just a touch. He wouldn't leave her broken and full of sorrow, he wouldn't do what his future self did to her, not again. Never again.

Crossing his arms, with an upturned brow, Leonard cast Sara a trademark smirk. "I never do."

The way Sara smiled at him then made up for the sight of her walking away, the sight of her climbing into a ship that he'd soon die to save, the sight of her leaving, knowing that he might never see this Sara - _his_ Sara - ever again. Long after the ship vanished, Leonard remained on the roof, seeing that smile.

And it was worth it.

* * *

Everything in Leonard's life had changed.

Yet absolutely nothing was different.

He stood in the center of his room, staring at the empty corners, the rumpled sheets, the swiftly fading warmth. His entire world had been tilted on its axis, but he could hear the neighbors shouting, the cars speeding down the street, the sounds of the city life progressing. He had nothing to show for it.

His phone rang, bringing him back to reality with a harsh tone. Grabbing it off his dresser, he took the call without looking.

"What?"

" _Boss."_

Leonard exhaled, looking at his dresser. "Mick."

" _What the fuck happened? Last thing I remember, we were in the bar."_

Breathing in deeply, Leonard attempted his drawl, "You overindulged." He shifted papers over the top of the dresser, revealing an imperfect sapphire. One that he'd pulled out of his take before he hid it away. One that hadn't been worth the effort, one that would never bring a profit, but that he couldn't part with.

" _Right. 'Course."_

"Where are you?" Lisa was still out of town and he didn't want to stay in the apartment right now. He rolled the sapphire between his fingers, watching it catch the light.

" _Uhh...somewhere with boats."_

"Stay put. I'm on my way." He hung up, staring at the phone for a long moment before pocketing it. The moment he left this room, it was really all going to be over.

He grabbed his jacket off the floor with his free hand, hating that he was hesitating. As he pulled it off the ground, trying not to think about how it got there, another coat fell loose and landed on his boot.

He stilled, staring at the overlarge blue coat. The one she'd worn the night they met. And the night she left. Leaning down, he dropped his in favor of this one, the movement stirring up a faint scent of Sara.

He draped it over his bed, before stepping over to his desk and opening the top drawer. Reaching in and back, he popped open the false base.

Turning the sapphire in his fingers one last time, he put it in with the ring and photo of Lisa. Then, he stood, pocketed his knife and grabbed Sara's coat off the bed, swinging it over his shoulders. It was a perfect fit.

Leonard rolled his shoulders and started towards the door, his mood lifting slightly. Captain Cold had some work to do and not a ton of time to do it.

After all, he had a date.


	14. I made a map

Of course, nothing went to plan. Rarely ever did. On his way to pick up Mick, blue and red lights surrounded him and he was unceremoniously arrested for the murder of Lewis Snart.

He didn't fight them. Didn't try to deny it. He simply allowed them to take him in. He'd known he was walking free on borrowed time as it was, and was grateful that it had happened after Sara had left.

His trial had been...unexpected. With the slew of evidence at the crime scene and his own flat acknowledgement of the facts, it had seemed like an open and shut case. Then, his defense had brought in an another witness.

Detective Joe West didn't seem pleased to be there, casting Leonard a glare as he took his seat and swore his oath. Leonard wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

"Detective West, can you tell us what your connection to this case is?"

West glanced at Leonard, then sighed, "I was running a surveillance operation on one of the men Lewis Snart hired, David McKinsey. He's a suspect as a supplier. We were tailing him and bugged a few of his usual haunts."

"Objection," the prosecutor said, "I don't see any relevance to this case."

"Overruled," the judge said, watching West. "Proceed, Detective."

"While tailing McKinsey, we overheard the following conversation between him and Lewis Snart," West said. Again, he looked at Leonard, but this time, it wasn't a glare. It was a look of pity. He would've preferred a glare.

The judge waved for the recording to be played and Leonard stared straight ahead as the sounds of a bar became clear.

 _"...think it'll work, Snart_?"

 _"'Course it'll fucking work."_ Leonard didn't react as his father's voice echoed through the courtroom _. "He'd do anything for her. He's a weak little shit."_

 _"Then why do we need-"_

 _"Because that little shit has become the best damn thief in the whole fucking city, David. If anyone's getting us in, it'll be Leonard."_ A faint grunt _,_ sound of breaking glass in the background _. "We tell him Lisa's life is on the line, he'd do anything to help her."_

 _"And when the job's done?"_

 _"We'll be set for life."_

 _"What about Leonard? You know he'll come after us and he's-"_

 _"My son shouldn't be the one you're afraid of_ ," Lewis growled, sounding pissed that David was concerned. Leonard allowed himself a small feeling of satisfaction.

 _"And Lisa?"_

Lewis chuckled, _"Second the job is done, we'll kill 'em both. I hate loose ends_."

The recording cut off and Leonard stared straight at West. He didn't buy that they were tailing David, not for one damn minute. Any detective worth their salt would know that David wasn't a supplier. No one would trust him with their houseplants, let alone their drugs or money. So why the hell was he trying to help out Leonard? What did he have to gain?

Leonard was called up to the stand shortly after. He found West in the audience, sitting next to the skinny CSI kid. They were whispering, but fell silent once the questioning started.

"Did your father threaten you with your sister's life?"

"Yes," he clipped out.

"And did he try to kill you, once the job was over?"

"Yes."

CSI and West seemed unsurprised at his admission, almost as if they knew about it before. They were staring at Leonard without the annoyance and anger he was used to receiving from law enforcement. A sort of frustrated understanding, an annoyed acceptance. God, how he wanted the anger instead.

"Tying up loose ends," she'd said. He wasn't sure if he wanted to thank her for this, but it's not like she'd left him a choice in the matter. He decided to take it as the help it was meant to be. The trial finished up shortly after that, especially since Leonard had already admitted to killing Lewis. However, his sentence was peppered with terms like self defense, diminished responsibility, extreme circumstances.

Thanks to West's testimony, Leonard wasn't put in maximum security, but with general pop. It's not like he would be there for long, but it made things a bit easier on him. Establishing himself as someone who shouldn't be messed with took only one lunchroom brawl. Send one grunt through the plexiglass that covered the food, without receiving any significant hits on his own, and people tended to leave him alone. Adding into that his telltale glare and usual attitude, and Leonard was unanimously elected the top dog and left on his own.

His days were spent in the prison library or in his cell, punctuated with brief visits from Lisa. Mick was wanted on multiple counts of arson from over the years, so he sent his comments through Lisa. He was doing well, none worse the wear for his few missing days, laying low until Leonard got out. Lisa had access to part of Leonard's cut, so she would be set until long after he was back on the street. Everyone was fine and moving on, and Leonard was left in the cell, in the holding pattern, with nothing but his thoughts. Some days, they were better company than others.

He was walking past the television room one day, a book under his arm, when he heard a comment that made him pause.

 _"...calling her the Black Canary_."

Stepping into the almost empty room, Leonard leaned on the door, his full attention on the screen, as focused as he'd been in weeks. He caught the tail end of a clip, showing a woman in black leather beating a couple of street dealers into the pavement. He couldn't see her face - the mask and blonde hair covered it - but he saw the way she moved and the grin that flashed in the dark. He'd know that smile anywhere.

"Hello, birdy."

* * *

Getting sprung by the Trickster hadn't exactly been part of Leonard's plan, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if that gift horse was insane. Working with Team Flash had been his only option and he had to admit, he kind of enjoyed the rush.

Mick, however, had been less than pleased.

"What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" Leonard drawled, his feet up on the low table. It wasn't his apartment or Mick's, but one of their safehouses. It was a bit dilapidated and worn down, not up to Leonard's usual standards, but it was warm and off the grid.

"You worked with the Flash?" Mick snarled. "You're turning sides?"

"No," he answered. "I was keeping a psychopath off my streets." Perhaps it came off harsher than he meant it to, but there'd been no mention of the Black Canary on the news in months. It was making him a little anxious, if Leonard Snart could get anxious.

"You're helping the heroes."

He straightened up slightly. "I was helping me. I was helping our city."

"You aren't a hero, Snart!"

Leonard's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm not trying to be." He wasn't certain that was a lie, but he also hated the idea of the word."I wanted the Trickster and his goddamn bombs away from my city, my take, and my sister."

Mick cursed and stood, grabbing a beer off the counter. "You never should have gone to the Flash."

"I didn't have a choice, Mick."

"Sure." The arsonist wandered away and Leonard stared after him. Finally, he stood and started towards the door.

"Where are you going now?" Mick growled.

"Out," Leonard snapped.

He'd only meant to take a walk around the city. Somehow, he'd ended up at the train station. So he got on.

Central City wasn't perfect, what with the metas cropping up every weekend. However, Star City was a right sight worse. Two minutes off the train and Leonard saw two robberies, three carjackings, and a mugging. His kind of city. He kept his head down and shoved his hands into his pockets, his destination in mind and his thoughts already there.

The cemetery was quiet and undisturbed by the crime and anger outside the gates. The rows of headstones, far too many, were neat and orderly, unlike the chaos on the streets. It took Leonard quite some time before he found the one he was looking for.

 _Sara Lance_

 _1987-2007_

 _Loving daughter and sister_

The plot was well tended, the headstone clean. There were flowers on the grave were not more than a week old. Clearly, someone still cared.

He knew about Sara's father and had done his research on her sister. In fact, he'd caught a few of Laurel's cases on the internet, reading through her work. She was thorough. He should consider hiring her the next time he got arrested.

Turning his attention back to the headstone, he sat on his heels, staring at the inscription. He ran his fingers over his mouth, his eyes drawn to the dates.

God, she was only twenty when she was put in here. Still not much more than a kid. Though, let's be honest, he wasn't a kid at twenty - he hadn't been a kid since he was six years old. She was older when he saw her, so he knew that she did come back, but still...being right here and seeing it…

His eyes dropped down to the plot beneath his feet. Stomach churning at the thought of Sara being buried somewhere beneath his boots, he stood and backed away. He didn't bring flowers to lay down for her, no pretty words or tears. He brushed off his knees and glanced one last time at the name. "You'd better keep your promise," he murmured at the grave.

* * *

The waiting was rough.

It was coming, it had to be coming, and yet…

It wasn't here.

The longer it took, the more frustrated Leonard got. He was on edge, he was in a holding pattern, waiting for his future to begin.

And dreading that it wouldn't.

He and Mick butted heads more often than not and Leonard was pulling fewer and fewer jobs, living longer on his cuts than he usually did. Mick spent more time on his own and his temper burned fiercer than ever. Leonard built up his walls higher and thicker, preparing for the day that he would finally realize it wasn't going to happen. Everything seemed to be coming to a head-

And then he woke up on the rooftop and she was there.

Leonard barely heard what Rip was saying - though he did see the difference in Rip between now and then - his eyes were on Sara.

She looked different. Harder, colder, more distant. Everything he pretended to be. But it was her, those eyes, that voice, and the smile-

No. The smile was wrong. It was too bright, too artificial, too fake. It was good, very good. It clearly slid by the other misfits on the roof.

But it didn't slide by him. Faking things was Leonard's bread and butter, and though she was good, she was no Snart.

She left the roof first, casting a suspicious look at Leonard as she left. Leonard smirked at her, chuckling once as she rolled her eyes. This Sara was harder and colder than the one he knew, but he took it as a challenge.

Leonard's agreement was already long decided before he and Mick returned to the Waverider, though he knew that Mick was going to be a hard sell. The fact that Mick had agreed to come was a step in the right direction, but he wasn't certain it was going to be enough.

They split to pack what little they cared to take with them. Leonard left a note for Lisa, along with the location for a few of his caches. Not all of them; he always had a backup plan.

His gun made it into the bag, along with the blue coat he'd taken to wearing around at home. On impulse, he reached into his desk and pulled out a few things. The picture of Lisa, the ring. His finger knocked the sapphire; he hadn't looked at it since that night. He didn't know what he'd do with it, but he pocketed it just the same.

When he carried his bag onto the Waverider, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. He'd been waiting for this for so long, and it was finally here. Hard to imagine his past and future were coming to a head right this second.

He joined in for the nickel tour of the ship, Sara falling into step without a word.

Leonard fell back to walk with Sara as Ray attempted to flirt with Stein. The awkwardness was almost palpable as Ray struggled to get Stein to remember him. It was amusing to see the two acting like this, when he'd seen them helping and close to one another just a few years ago. However, Leonard could barely keep track of the conversation, other than seeing Ray get shot down. His eyes on the way she moved, the light steps second nature to her.

"I consider myself to be a broadminded individual, but this is a lot to take in," he said, looking around the ship that he hadn't seen in years. The ship, this possible future, his future.

"And why are you telling me this?" she asked, arms crossed and expression closed off, looking away from him.

The disinterest was pretty good. He almost bought that she was as closed off as she pretended to be. "You seem to be the only other person on this boat who isn't a super genius or a reincarnated freakshow." Oh, poor word choice.

"Actually, I was dead for a year."

Yeah, he remembered. Leonard turned towards her, his voice dropping a bit of its edge. "Hey, I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Yeah," she sighed, turning to face him - finally. She gave him a sarcastic smile. "I could tell by the way you were staring at my ass." She moved down the hallway without a backwards glance.

Leonard watched her go, a faint smile dancing across his lips. This was going to be one hell of a battle to get her to trust him. Luckily, he was a better fighter than he looked.


	15. knew somehow I would find my way back

They'd been benched - he, Sara, and Mick. The first job and they were told to stay out of it. The doctor and the reincarnated lovebirds got to go, but the three accomplished fighters were told to sit and stay.

So they'd gone out on the town and hit up the bar. Leonard wasn't one for sitting around and he could see Mick and Sara itching to move. It had been Sara's suggestion and he wasn't about to let her go out alone. He wasn't certain it was the best idea; mixing alcohol and danger was bad for Mick, but Leonard thought it was going to be even worse on her.

It had only been a few days, but he could see how tightly wound she was, how closely she was dancing on the edge of the blade. It was that same recklessness he'd seen when she'd gone after Savage, that single minded determination, to the exclusion of everything else, including her own safety. She needed someone to watch her back, because she wasn't doing it for herself. She didn't care to do it.

More importantly, she needed someone to keep her grounded when she got too lost in her head, too lost in her memories.

They grabbed drinks and Leonard leaned up against the wall, not inclined to join the crowd.  
Sara slid towards him, her hips already swaying to the music. Leonard watched her approach with a faint smile. They'd been better; despite their rough first meeting, Sara had gravitated towards him and Mick. Probably because the two criminals felt no need to hide their darkness. It was what they'd been hired for, after all. It was also something that neither one of them judged her for. Of course, Sara thought she was even worse than them, that her darkness was all she was. And what with Rip bringing it up every other damn sentence, it was going to take a lot to convince her otherwise.

"Wanna dance, Leonard?" she asked when she was close enough, that cat-like grin on her face.

He declined, not because he didn't want to; he did, more than she knew. But to be so close to her, to be so close to the way they used to be and yet...not be what they used to be - he couldn't take it.

So he watched Sara sway and dip, his eyes tracing the path that his fingers hadn't yet drawn on her skin. He recognized the swirl of her hips and the leather only just hid the marks he knew were there. Fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle, he sipped deeply from it, soothing his parched throat.

And when the man stepped in and put his hands on her, Leonard knew she could handle herself even before she put her hand up. It didn't stop the dark coil in his stomach from writhing up and around. When she looked back at him and Mick, he threw the bottles down and joined in with just a tad too much relish.

It was that moment, when he, Sara, and Mick were all fighting, all seamlessly picking up where the others dropped off, covering each other's backs, watching out for one another, that Leonard began to think about his future with her.

She had been right. It was difficult.

This was Sara, but she wasn't the one he'd fallen for. Not yet.

This Sara was cold. Her faked smiles were even more of a show than the ones he had grown used to. Her hands were still bloody and her nightmares weren't of losing people, they were of losing herself. She kept everyone at an arm's length, even as she danced and flirted her way around each of them, sometimes too close to him.

But he could see glimmers of her. Her sense of humor. The way she fit in with him and Mick, as easily as breathing.

The way she looked at him after Russia.

Leonard had just barely sat down when there was a knock on the door. After the rescue of Mick - and Palmer, too - he had been a little worn out and retired to his room with a bottle of vodka. Drinking helped dull the enormity of the emotions he'd had to bring up for Sara. He wasn't sure he'd be able to talk her down, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let her shoot Stein, not when it would just put more blood on her hands.

Striding over to the door, he opened it up, revealing Sara behind the panel. She looked up at him and held up a bottle.

He leaned on the wall with an arched brow. Pointing at the liquor, he said, "That doesn't look like one of Yuri's."

The darkness lifted off her face just a bit and she wiggled the bottle. "No. Rip needs to learn to lock his cabinets."

"Stealing from the captain, birdy? Thought I was the criminal," he murmured with a smirk. She shrugged, then handed it over. "What's this for?" He turned the bottle in his hands - a good brand of scotch.

"A thank you. For earlier."

He didn't demean her by asking what she meant. "I look out for my crew."

She leaned on the wall. "I think Stein would have a conniption to hear you calling him a part of his crew."

"As amusing as that would be," he allowed, "I wasn't talking about Stein."

Sara smirked at him. It wasn't the smile he was hoping for, but it was closer than he'd gotten before. This one was more honest than her usual false grins. She wasn't arguing and she also didn't leave. So he took a chance.

"Drink?" He held up the bottle.

She shrugged, "Sure." She followed him in and the door closed behind her. Leonard grabbed two glasses - taken from the kitchen - and twisted off the cap. He glanced at Sara while pouring out a generous measure in each. She was looking around at his room, at the books he'd slowly been taking from Rip's library stacked on his desk and the odds and ends gathering on his nightstand.

She picked up a narrow blade and narrowed her eyes at him. "This is mine."

"Was yours." He tossed her unapologetic smirk.

She chuckled, looking at the other things he'd nabbed. A pair of earrings, another bottle of vodka from Yuri, one of Ray's screwdrivers. "You're like a magpie." Placing the knife back down on the table, she took the glass he offered.

He knocked the rim of his gently against hers, meeting her eyes. Leonard could appreciate his Sara's struggle during his past - her future - tenses were confusing. Before, he wasn't entirely certain how she could be in love with his future self, yet fall for him. But he was finding a similar pattern here.

He had fallen for his Sara because of her strength after sorrow. Because of her humor, because she didn't allow her past to define her. Because of the way she'd accepted him.  
But this Sara didn't have any of that, not yet. So why did he find himself drawn to her anyway? Because of who she would become?

No, it was more.

It was because he saw how hard she was trying to be better than what she was. How she tried to smile, even when she was broken inside. How she was trying to overcome the things she'd done, but was scared of slipping backwards. How instead of writing him off as a crook and a criminal, she was here, trying to understand him. To thank him. He saw her struggle and admired her for it.

"What're we toasting?" she asked.

"Unlikely partners." And the beginning of them.

"Unlikely partners," she repeated, a smile playing around the edges of her lips.

Leonard sipped his drink, but the alcohol wasn't what warmed him.

It had been a real smile.

* * *

She'd called him hesitant. Cautious.

Past him had scoffed at that. But past him had the girl. Past him had made the choices that led to his Sara falling for him so hard that she tried to rewrite the past to save him.

However, this Sara wasn't the one in love with him and if he didn't do everything correctly, she might never be.

Past him had laughed at his caution, but current him had so much more to lose.

So he was cautious and hesitant. He didn't know what moves he should make to keep his future on its path. How the hell was he supposed to figure it out?

He tried changing his past, he tried making his father an actual father, but it amounted to nothing. Time wanted to happen.

If that was the case, then he and Sara were inevitable.

If that was the case, then his death was, too.

He had bigger things to worry about, though. Bigger than death, even bigger than Sara, right now.

He had walked away from Mick, leaving him half frozen. He walked away from his partner - his family.

Leonard stalked back through the Waverider, ignoring Ray's attempt to talk to him, ignoring Rip's demand for him to stop and explain. He went straight to his room and closed the door, throwing his gun on the bed, not caring as it bounced and rolled onto the ground with a metallic clatter.

Crossing to his desk, he put his hands on the desk and stared out the window. The dark night casted his reflection back at him, making the shadows on his face seem heavier, the lines on his face deeper.

Was this what he did in the past? Was this the second time he betrayed Mick?

Sara said she'd killed the men who hurt Mick. She didn't say it was him.

Was this what happened before? Or did he do something this time around to change it? Was it something he didn't do?

Head reeling, he grabbed the extra bottle of vodka, uncapping it and bringing it to his lips. The liquor didn't burn on its way down - the vodka was too good - but the guilt and shame did.

How could he turn on Mick?

No, how could Mick turn on him? They'd been through too much together. They watched each other's backs. Mick was his crew, his family. He was the one person Leonard could always count on. They worked off each other so well because they were always on the same page.

Except, they hadn't been on the same page recently. They hadn't even been on the same book. He tipped back the bottle again, this swallow bigger than the last.

Forget time travel, forget his future, forget what Sara had told him. Was there anything Leonard would have done differently?

Taking another swallow, he stared out his window.

Would he have let Sara kill Stein? Would he have left Ray behind in Russia? Would he have left Mick in the future? Would he have turned on the Waverider crew, knowing that the time pirates would have, at best, stranded them?

He took another swig, avoiding the answer he knew was obvious.

If he rejected the idea of destiny - and he did - then he had to accept the truth. There was nothing that led to this, other than his decisions. He was responsible for this. For all of it. These were his decisions and no one forced him to do anything he didn't want to do. Which meant…

Which meant that he had to live with this.

The first knock on the door, Leonard simply ignored. The second time, he glared over his shoulder, "If you don't want to wake up a glacier, I suggest you. Fuck. Off."

He took another deep drink, interrupted by a third knock. Striding over to the door, Leonard grabbed his knife and slid it open. "I said-"

"I know." Sara seemed unsurprised at his greeting and his weapon. She also didn't back away.

"Not in the mood for a heart to heart, birdy," he said, turning away from her and dropping his knife back on the table. He grabbed the bottle again, taking another deep swig.

"Good thing we don't have hearts," she retorted, coming in and allowing the door to close.

Leonard could feel her gaze on his shoulders, but didn't turn around. He glanced at the bottle, it was already a third empty. He took another drink.

"So, when are you going back for him?" Sara asked quietly.

Shocked, he turned, the bottle hanging loosely from his fingers. He stared at her, wondering how she knew.

Her shoulder lifted in a one-armed shrug. "I'm a killer, Snart. I know one when I see one."  
Leonard sank onto the bed, running his hand over his head. "I couldn't."

She sat next to him, grabbing the bottle from him. She took a drink then handed it back. "I know."

He shook his head, putting the bottle on the nightstand. It wasn't doing what he wanted it to. "I should have."

"No. You made the right call." She kept her eyes straight ahead.

With a scoff, he stared at the ground. He wasn't so sure.

"Mick is…" Sara hesitated. "Mick is rough. But worth saving."

"I don't think he wants saving." And what was Leonard saving him from? The life they'd both had? The life Mick wanted? Was that really saving?

"Guess we'll have to convince him."

"'We,'" he repeated, the liquor and his own anger making the word come out short. "You aren't a part of this."

She was wrapped up in every part of this, entwined in every part of his life, past, present, and future. Had it not been for her, had he not met her, would he have come on this trip? Again, the answer was obvious. The danger, the thrill, the rewards?

Yes.

"I care about Mick, too," she said quietly.

"Why?" Leonard asked. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he cared about Mick so much half the time.

"Because he knows who he is. Because even though he's an ass, and crude, and a little crazy, he cares about his crew. Which is why he did all this," she said.

Leonard looked at her, the question in his eyes.

"He thought he was losing you," Sara told him.

"Maybe he was." Wasn't Leonard the one who was changing their tune? He was the one reconsidering the benefits of heroism. He was the one who was abandoning Mick and their ideals.

"Or maybe you were both gaining a bigger crew."

"Guess we'll never know," he muttered.

"We will. We'll get him back, Len." She put her hand on his shoulder, then stood and headed towards the door. He watched her, his eyes tracking up to the bandage on her shoulder.

"He tried to kill you," Leonard said.

Sara turned back, "Yeah."

"And you still want to help him?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

She shrugged, "Partners look out for one another."

* * *

Leonard flexed his hand, staring at the new skin. Having Rip recreate his hand had been a welcome surprise, though he was still pissed it had to be done in the first place. First they lose the girls and Ray back in time, then they're attacked by Chronos, who turns out to be Mick, brainwashed by the Time Masters and-

Damn, it was a long day.

Still, there was more to do. Taking a turn, Leonard stopped outside a door, then knocked loudly on the metal.

When it slid open, he stared for a long moment at Sara.

It had been only a day for him - a particularly trying day - but just one day. For her, it had been two years, but here she was, back on board.

He opened his mouth to say something, he wasn't certain what, but she cut in.

"Are you okay?"

Leonard reeled, his eyes narrowing. She was the one who'd been stuck in the past, she was the one who'd just fought for her life against her friends, she was-

She was the one.

"Fine," he replied, stepping in as she moved back to make room. The door shut behind him and he leaned against the metal, trying to take a breath.

"And Mick?" she asked, her eyes concerned.

He shrugged. "He's in the cell. Screaming that he wants to kill us all."

Sara didn't seem surprised. "He's been with the Time Masters for years. It'll take a lot to break that sort of thinking."

"Does the League do that?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. In a way." She shook her head gently, trying to rid herself of thoughts. "Let me see your hand. Ray told me what happened and what Rip was doing, but..."

He didn't have much of a choice as she grabbed it, holding it up to the light. Her fingers traced the new skin, but she frowned.

"What?" he asked."

She pushed his sleeve up slightly, revealing scars that ended abruptly at his wrist. "Your scars…"

"I've got enough to spare."

She looked up at him, still holding his hand.

"Are you alright?" he finally was able to ask.

She smiled tightly. "Yeah. Glad to be back."

Leonard's fingers tightened around hers, agreeing.

"And now Mick's back, we'll take down Savage once and for all," she said fiercely. "Maybe a few of those Time Masters, too."

"Mick is-"

"Part of our crew. We're going to help him. Promise." She dropped his hand, the assassin bouncing back from the impossible with an energy that constantly surprised him.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, birdy," he couldn't help but murmur.

She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. "I don't."


	16. Then I heard your heart beating

_I apologize now. This is a little shorter and it is a cliffhanger. But the last two chapters - yes, LAST two - will be up before next Friday._

 _I can't thank you enough for the comments and kudos. It makes my entire week seeing something pop up. I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to write out a small note, even if it's just a smiley face. Thank you._

* * *

"That looks like it hurts."

Leonard saw Sara in the mirror, standing in his doorway. He ignored the comment, trying to finish wrapping his cracked ribs. Though his talk with Mick had gone better in the fact that neither one of them was dead, it still hurt like hell.

"Here." She came into the room and grabbed the gauze out of his fingers. Leonard would have argued, but the pain kept him quiet.

She wrapped him tightly, making sure the rib wouldn't shift. Then she turned him around, shaking her head at his face. "You look like shit."

He shrugged, then winced. "Worth it."

"And I thought you didn't have feelings," she retorted, picking up the antibacterial ointment.

Leonard stared at her, seeing those sapphires glance up at him as she unwittingly brought up their conversation from earlier.

 _"And what about your feelings?"_

 _"About you?"_

She smoothed some cream over his brow. "Gideon could fix you up in a second."

"I know."

Sara nodded, understanding why he didn't.

They lapsed into the comfortable silence they had when they played cards or pretended to listen to Rip. Being around this Sara was different than his Sara, but he was finding it no less enjoyable. She wasn't as easy-going as his Sara - she told him things he didn't want to hear. She argued with him. She forced him to reconsider his views on too many things to be comfortable. But even if he didn't know who she would turn into, Leonard would have gravitated toward her nonetheless.

Sara was everything Leonard needed. She could keep up, she pushed him, she challenged him. She wasn't afraid to go where he led, but she was confident enough to take point, knowing that he would follow. She didn't begrudge him his thieving, didn't try to change him, even as she showed him he was capable of more.

"How's that feel?" she asked, stepping back.

The pain was dulled and her smile definitely didn't hurt. "Thanks, birdy."

"Anytime, crook." Her eyes danced over his torso, no pity at all in her gaze. He'd missed that.

"What's that one from?" she asked, pointing at the one above his heart.

"Someone brought a knife to a gunfight," Leonard murmured, his eyes on her.

Sara nodded, respect in her eyes for his ability to take a hit and keep moving. Her hand reached up, as if she wanted to trace it and Leonard held his breath.

"Everyone, report to the bridge immediately!" Rip shouted over the intercom.

Sara rolled her eyes, "What now?"

"No doubt another disaster caused by Rip," Leonard suggested, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head, ignoring the way his ribs shifted and pulled. When his head came free, Sara was smiling at him.

"Good thing Mick's back," she said. "Guess we'll have to clean up Rip's mess. Again."

Leonard followed her out of his room, liking the sound of that. We.

Even if he'd never met Sara before this, even if he hadn't known what would happen, he figured it would have happened anyway.

Captain and the Canary.

* * *

It was coming. He could taste it on the air. The moment.

Which is why he panicked, drawing his gun on her.

He'd fucked up. But how was he supposed to walk calmly towards his death?

He said he didn't believe in destiny, but it was becoming painfully clear that no matter what he did, he was ending up on the same path that had killed him the first time. So he'd drawn a gun on her and she hadn't backed down. Had he done this before? In her past, he meant. He knew he did it in her future, when his father told him to and when he discovered the truth. But she'd never backed off, never allowed him to try and threaten his way out of it. Always seeing past the gun to what he was actually trying to run from.

She'd talked him down and he was still here, but she had walked away from him. It wasn't until she left him on the bridge that he realized how much he'd come to rely on her. He and Mick were better, but now it was the three of them. To lose one was...

Leonard found his way to her door, holding up a deck of cards.

"Not in the mood," she muttered, staring at the ceiling.

"I was going to apologize for pulling a gun on you, but apparently I was just following a script," he said, leaning against the door. A script that he knew the ending to, but none of the middle.

"Doesn't make you any less of a jerk."

Or any less of a coward. "Guilty."

Still, she sat up when he entered, making room for him.

He leaned against the bed and said, "It's being on this ship, travelling through time. Starting to wonder what the future might hold for me. And you." He looked up at her, his voice dropping. "And me and you."

Leonard knew what the future held for him. Nothing good. How could he keep going? Especially now, when he saw exactly how much he had to lose? When he could remember the way Sara had looked in the past, mourning the man he'd become?

Sara leaned down, her eyes dancing, "You wanna steal a kiss from me, Leonard?"

He wanted a whole lot more than that.

"You'd better be one hell of a thief." She walked away from him, the tease in her stance.

He didn't take that as a rejection. He took it as a challenge. They both knew that he was one hell of a thief.

After all, she'd said it herself.

* * *

Funny thing about denying destiny.

Doesn't seem to do a whole lot of good.

"Get him out of here!" he ordered Sara, putting his hands in to hold the bomb, his gun at his feet; he'd been keeping it close in preparation for the end, but he hadn't imagined it was now. As soon as Leonard had realized that Mick was going to stay behind, he'd gone after him, ignoring Rip's warning. Sara had been right on his heels, never hesitating about going back. Mick had gone down hard when Leonard had hit him and Leonard took his place. He hadn't thought Mick would have such self-sacrificing tendencies, which is why he hadn't anticipated it.

Seems they both changed on this trip.

Sara took a step towards him. "No." The word was simple, unrelenting, pained.

It was familiar, the way she said it. How she'd refused to leave him before, too. This was why.

"Just do it." He couldn't change the future. That's why he never should have made his promise. He couldn't keep it.

Sara grabbed his arm, kissing him briefly. It was too short. He'd been waiting years to kiss her again and this wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want a too brief kiss of pain and sorrow, full of almosts. He'd wanted a future.

And not this future.

So he poured in all the things he couldn't say. The apologies she wouldn't understand for the future she didn't realize she'd have. And when she pulled away, he saw tears in her eyes.

He turned back to the Oculus, ignoring the sounds of Sara and Mick retreating.

Here he was, meeting his end the way it had been planned. Nothing he'd done had changed it. Nothing he said could stop it. He couldn't keep it from happening. This was his end.

He gritted his teeth and held the bomb in tighter.

His destiny.

…

...

...

Of course, was it really destiny's fault?

He'd made the choices. He'd said the words. He'd taken Mick's place. No one was forcing him to do that. No one but himself.

No one tells him how to live his life.

His fate was only predetermined by who Leonard was. The crook who looked out for his crew. The criminal who was striving to be something more. The man who who always had a way out. The one who always had an answer.

Leonard Snart.

Leaning down, Leonard grabbed the cold gun from his feet, aiming it at the arm holding in the bomb. He hesitated briefly, remembering with perfect clarity how much it had hurt the first time. The pain that almost made him lose consciousness.

But he also remembered Mick stepping up and taking down a few Time Masters. How Martin and Ray seemed so grateful to get to see him again in his past. His sister, grinning at him on the couch. Rip's grudging respect. Kendra's laughter. Jax's eagerness. Sara's smile.

Leonard exhaled and fired, snarling through the pain, slamming the butt of his gun on his frozen limb the second he could. He had enough presence of mind to seal up the opening to the bomb, making sure that no one would be able to take it out, not in time.

He stumbled away from the Oculus, following the path he'd known Sara had taken Mick. Just as he reached the door, Leonard heard Druce and the other Time Masters running in, crying out as they saw the Oculus.

"What have you done? How could you?!"

Leonard grinned at them, spitting out through gritted teeth, "There are no strings on me."

A blast of ice kept them away as he ran, the sounds of fighting and fire making him dizzy. Ahead, he could see a lumbering shape, attempting to move quickly. The _Waverider_ landed in front of them and Leonard finally saw Sara hidden beneath Mick's bulk, helping the unconscious pyro into the ship. She didn't look back at him.

"Sara!" he tried to call out, but his voice was weak with pain and exhaustion. Black was pressing at his eyes, threatening to swallow him whole.

He refused to die on this planet a second time.

Impossibly, he pressed himself forward faster, holding what was left of his arm to his chest, his gun hanging in his other hand. The bay doors started to close and his internal clock was saying that he had mere seconds before the bomb went off.

He didn't shout a second time. He couldn't risk anyone staying here for him.

Then Sara looked back. Her eyes widened and she shouted something. The doors stopped closing - she was climbing over them before they'd opened again, sprinting towards him even as the seconds continued to tick down.

"Len!" she shouted as soon as she was in reach. She pulled his good arm around her shoulders, forcing him to run back to the ship. "How did you-"

"Promised," he spat out, dizzy and disoriented.

She frowned, but didn't question him. She got him to the ship and they were in the air before the doors closed behind them.

"Get us out of here!" Sara shouted at the intercom.

Leonard felt the ship pick up speed, trying to outrace the explosion that was coming.

"Hold onto something!" Rip announced over the speakers.

Sara knelt down, grabbing Mick's coat and pulling him toward the wall. As soon as she was close enough, she wrapped her free arm around one of the pillars to brace herself. Leonard held on with his good arm, keeping her boxed in against the metal, even as he swayed slightly, pain and dizziness warring with his mind. He wasn't going to lose her now.

They saw the explosion before they heard it. A light rose, knocking the ship around in the air. Sara bounced against him and he pressed them both tighter against the pillar, staring out the bay window.

They saw the Oculus go up, the reverberation through time and space heading towards them. A bright blue light exploded outwards, similar to what Leonard had seen inside the machine. As it struck the ship, a pain burst behind Leonard's eyes, separate from his arm, separate from everything, like a wedge being shoved into his head.

But that paled when he saw Sara screw up her own eyes, her face going ashen from pain. She let go and fell against him, Mick slipping to ground.

"Sara!" He held her up with his one good arm, but the light just grew in the bay, brighter and more brilliant than before, pressing into his eyes - his skull - his mind. He fell, letting go of Sara before he took her down with him. His head cracked on the grating, the combination of pains finally dragging him into the black.

The last thing he saw was Sara screaming, pressing her hands against her temples.


	17. you were in the darkness too

Everything hurt. His head, his arm - arms? - his very bones seemed to ache. The only reason exhaustion hadn't pulled him back under was the fact that everything hurt too much to go back to sleep.

He opened his eyes and squinted at the light, trying to make sense of where he was. What the hell had happened?

"'Bout time you woke up, asshole."

Turning his head seemed like an impossible feat, but Leonard managed it, seeing Mick sitting in the corner, his feet up on his bed. They were in the infirmary, wires hooked up to his arm and monitors beeping at him. It seemed so familiar.

"What happened?" Leonard asked, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. "Last thing I remember, I-"

 _ **He stared at the Time Masters, his arm in the Oculus and his hand on the bomb. A burst of blue light enveloped him and every molecule was seared away-**_

Leonard gasped at the phantom pain, sitting up and gripping the bars.

"There you go," Mick muttered, looking mutinous. "Remember now?"

"What the fuc-"

"You created a paradox, Mr. Snart," Rip announced, walking into the room. "Congratulations."

Leonard glared, his headache and general confusion making Rip's sarcasm less tolerable than usual. "What do you mean?"

Rip rubbed his face, clearly tired. He glanced at Mick and the arsonist spoke up. "What do you remember before the Legends?"

His eyes narrowed at Mick. "You'll have to narrow it down."

Mick dropped his feet to the ground, bracing his elbows on his knees. "How'd you kill your dad?"

Leonard didn't see the point of this. "I froze him. Shattered him after he threatened Lisa."

"Who else was there?"

"David. Chip. Sara-"

He saw her taking on his father, but then a man in red crossed his vision, fading her out.

" _ **I thought you hated him."**_

" _ **Not as much as I hate you."**_

The Flash?

Wait.

He shook his head, two different sets of memories fighting for dominance.

"It appears that you died in the Oculus," Rip said, watching his struggle. "At least, the first time 'round. Ms. Lance managed to convince the rest of us to go back in time and use Kendra's knife to kill Savage before we ever formed, making the Legends unnecessary, but leaving you alive. She failed."

He remembered a night with Sara - a night before they said goodbye, but he also remembered another empty night, where nothing special but a bar fight happened. God, Sara. How could he, in any lifetime, not remember that night, how could he not remember what this had been about? What the hell was happening to him?

"I don't…" Leonard stumbled over his words, his thoughts arguing in his head and deafening him.

"Blondie went back and told you the future. You survived this time because of that," Mick said simply.

"Then why can I remember two different lives?" Leonard asked, his grip on the bars tight, giving him something to hold onto.

"If you survive the Oculus, she doesn't go back. But if she doesn't go back, you don't survive." Rip shrugged. "Classic paradox. You've got both memories, of both timelines - the one where you died and this one."

"And so do the rest of us," Mick said, grumbling.

His head was pounding, but Leonard was starting to catch on. It didn't make the pain any less. He tried to focus on something simpler. "The Oculus?"

"Gone," Rip said. "You missed the rather dramatic rescue of Kendra and Carter, but you woke up just in time."

"For what?" Leonard asked.

"Killing Savage," Mick grinned.

He nodded, though his thoughts weren't entirely on Savage. He glanced at his arm, reconstructed for the second time, his skin new and fresh. Rip followed his gaze, then reluctantly spoke again.

"What you did was very brave, Mr. Snart. One might think that you are, despite your objections, a hero."

Leonard glared at him, then pulled the wires out of his arm. "Perish the thought."

Rip chuckled quietly, then said, "We'll be landing in a couple of hours. Get yourself clean and suit up. You're going as backup." He stared for a long moment. "I'm quite glad you aren't dead."

"Stop. I'm blushing."

Rip shook his head with a strained smile, leaving the room, but Leonard could have sworn he heard him mutter, "Asshole," under his breath. Somehow, that made him like the Time Master a bit more.

Slowly, Leonard stood up, ignoring Mick's silent scrutiny from the corner. When he was stable enough to let go of the bed frame, he looked at his partner.

"You're a son of a bitch," Mick said simply.

Leonard didn't disagree.

"You should've told me you had a plan."

"Much as it pains me to admit, I didn't."

Mick stared. "Dunno if that makes it worse or better."

"I wasn't about to leave you behind again."

Mick stood up, towering over Leonard as per usual. "Do it again and I'll deck you."

"Understood." He started towards the door, his head still aching and his body weak, but moving seemed to make the latter more bearable. The walk to his room was long, but Mick seemed intent on accompanying him. That was convenient, as Leonard had some things he wanted answered. "How's the rest of the team?"

"Fine."

That didn't really answer his question. He tried again, "Was everyone affected by these...dual memories?

"Hawks missed the giveaway. Seem to be the only ones."

Dammit, Mick. "And-"

"If you're going to ask about Blondie, just ask the fucking question," Mick snapped.

Leonard frowned, unused to this tone from Mick. Not that he hadn't heard it before, but it had always been aimed at people who were trying to mess with Leonard or Mick's crew. He'd rarely heard it directed at him, and never in defense of someone against Leonard.

Mick frowned as he realized what he'd said, his face contorting as he rubbed his head. "Fuckin' paradox…"

Leonard stopped, partly to catch his breath, partly to look at his partner. Mick stared straight ahead, but his voice was clear. "I've got these memories, of you bein' dead. Months. And it was me and Blondie. No one else...got it. I remember her coming up with this fuckin' insane plan to save you and what we did. But we didn't do it. Not yet. But she's still…"

"Crew," Leonard supplied.

Mick grunted, his only attempt at agreement. They started down the hall again, Leonard having caught his breath. He finally found the courage.

"Sara?"

"Rough. Hasn't really said anythin' about it." Mick carefully didn't look at him. "She sat with you, after she woke up. You're the first thing she asked about. Only left when we got the Hawks back."

That soothed a concern Leonard didn't know he had. They reached his room and Mick waited until he got all the way inside.

"Rest up. Got killin' to do later." He turned away.

"Mick."

The big man paused, but didn't look back.

He wanted to say...something that expressed his appreciation for the arsonist. Both in this timeline and the last. But they didn't really do feelings.

"You're the best guy I know."

"Fuck off, Snart," Mick said with a chuckle.

Inside, Leonard changed, then sat on his bed, holding his head in his hands. His thoughts were still snarled and tangled; his mind was the one thing he could count on and having it in any sort of disarray was intolerable.

Slowly, Leonard focused on his new - original? - timeline, following it piece by piece. From the Flash being there when he killed Lewis, to the way they helped Lisa, how he'd teamed up with the him after the Trickster. Meeting Rip and the others on the rooftop. Flirting and dancing around Sara, without knowing anything about how it would turn out. Fighting Savage, getting captured by Mick. All the way up to his death.

Exhaling through his nose, Leonard opened his eyes. His head still hurt, but it wasn't the mind-boggling ache he'd had before. He knew what was then and what was now, and wouldn't be caught unaware by memories again.

Pulling on his coat, Leonard grabbed his gun and strode to the door, his movements sure.

He may have figured out his past, but he still needed to clean up his future.

The door slid open, revealing Sara behind the metal, her hand raised to knock.

They were both silent for a moment, then Leonard said, "Birdy."

"Crook." Her smile was faint, but it was better than nothing. "How're you feeling?"

He shrugged, unable to answer that in a way she wanted to hear without lying. He didn't know where he stood with her. He knew his feelings, he knew her old feelings, but now? With everything mixed together? He wasn't sure. She seemed to accept his shrug as sufficient.

"What you did at the Oculus was brave," she said.

"The first time or the second?" he asked, folding his arms. He wasn't going to pretend that he didn't remember everything. He didn't want her to, either.

Sara arched a brow, acknowledging the setup. "Both."

"Had a promise to keep."

Her smile was slow, but transformed the uncertainty in his chest into something no less terrifying, but far more satisfying.

"So much for destiny, huh?" she asked, leaning against his door.

Leonard eyed her. "I've come to reevaluate my opinion on destiny."

"Thought you didn't believe in it," Sara said, canting her head to the side.

"Kind of hard to argue with facts." He caught her gaze, refusing to be misunderstood or thought of as joking or hiding or whatever else he did when it came to her. "Each time we've met, we've ended up here."

"Where's here?" Sara asked as he leaned against her side of the door frame, mere inches between them.

"Me. And you," he said lowly. He unfolded his arms, getting rid of his walls and his barriers and his excuses. "And me and you."

Her head tilted back to look up at him, her eyes dancing.

"Every time we end up here. Despite all the many variables," he said. "In my line of work, change one thing and you need a new plan. But with this - with you - the result always ends up the same."

"Is that a good thing?" she asked.

Did he still want that end result? Did he still want her? He heard both of those in her simple question.

"One of the only things in my life that is." He grinned. "In any of them."

She reached out, tracing a line over his chest. It might have seemed flirtatious, but he knew she was following the scar there.

Leonard reached up, taking her hand. "Birdy-"

Gideon's voice interrupted them, "Captain Hunter would like you to know that we've arrived. He's requesting your presence on the bridge."

Of course he was.

Leonard sighed slowly, dropping Sara's hand.

With a grin, Sara jerked her head toward the bridge. "Come on, crook. We've got a world to save, and I need you to watch my back." She didn't let it become strained or weird between them, despite the pause.

Leonard's smile was unintended, but he didn't try to stop it. "Right behind you."

* * *

"Snart!" Firestorm shouted, bringing Leonard's attention to a group of Savage's soldiers who were trying to surround him.

Leonard shot his gun in an arc, freezing some and making the others hesitate, allowing him a breath.

He, Jax, and Stein were serving as Sara's backup as she took down Savage from the wharf. Their job was to keep his backup from interrupting her. Her job was to kill him.

A few of the soldiers had managed to get some of the guns out of the crates, which is where Jax and Stein were focusing their efforts as the first line of defense. Leonard was the second and final line between them and Sara.

Two man started forward on opposite sides of Leonard, clearly planning on splitting his attention and getting past him.

Like hell.

The one of the left got a face full of ice, falling to his knees with a muted scream, blinded at best. Leonard turned his focus to the second, but he was too close to use the cold gun. Fine by him.

Throwing his fist to the man's left, Leonard holstered his gun with his right, drawing his knife in a smooth motion. He didn't claim to have Sara's skill with a blade, but he knew how to hurt someone.

The soldier got lucky with a glancing blow and Leonard tasted blood in his mouth. Ducking under the next punch, Leonard came in too closely for him to react, cutting up with the knife and slicing through his armor to his skin. It wasn't deep enough to do too much damage, but then Leonard kicked out, knocking the soldier back with a sickening crack of his skull.

Turning to confirm that he'd been the last of them, Leonard pulled his goggles off and caught sight of Sara wrenching Savage's neck to the side. The tyrant fell to the ground, finally and truly lifeless.

He watched Sara exhale slowly, a weight slipping off of her shoulders. She looked up, triumph and relief written on her face. Her knuckles were bloody where she gripped her staff, her hair was a rat's nest from where Savage had used it as a handhold, her suit was messed with blood and dirt. Her eyes met his and she smiled.

Leonard Snart, who'd seen more money, more jewels, more priceless pieces of art in his life than most everyone else in the world and had taken only the best for himself, had never seen anything more beautiful than her in that moment.

He crossed the wharf and Sara started towards him, that grin dancing on her lips and her eyes like sapphires. A thing of beauty in his world of hurt.

As soon as she was close enough, Sara said, "I've been waiting to do that for a long-"

Leonard wrapped his arms around her, bringing his mouth to hers and cutting her off, her lips molding to his without hesitation. His fingers pressed into the reinforced leather of her costume, while she grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer, sealing them together from chest to knees. She parted her lips and Leonard sank between them, tasting blood and whiskey and adrenaline, and his eyes squeezed tighter as something began to burn behind them.

He'd spent lifetimes trying to find this. Find where he belonged. Find her.

He wasn't going to let her go again.

Breaking the kiss, Leonard moved back only enough to speak, his lips still brushing against hers. "I love you, birdy."

It wasn't hard to say the words now. He didn't choke on them, he didn't hesitate. Not any more. Not after almost losing his chance to say them at all.

Sara smiled, "I love you, crook."

Leonard leaned in again, his fingers threading through the tangled strands of her hair as he kissed her again. Time could have stopped for all he cared, all that mattered was the taste of Sara on his lips and the feeling of her being in his arms, no lies, no worries about tomorrow, nothing but their future ahead of them.

"Okay, seriously pumped for you guys, but is this really the time?!" Firestorm shouted at them.

Of course it was the time. They'd been chasing each other for lifetimes and they were finally together. Captain and Canary. Past, present, or future.

It would always be the time.


	18. So I stayed in the darkness with you

The shouts and sounds of a full bar were the soundtrack to Leonard Snart's evening. Beer and stale peanuts covered the circular bar table he was sitting at, the seat having lost most of its cushion. How he would have preferred to be home, but he had been called out tonight.

The beer in his hand wasn't doing near enough to muffle the rabble around him and his shoulders rolled up in his parka, physical barriers between him and the rest of humanity.

The music blared in the background, nearly drowning out the screech of the opposite chair as Mick Rory took the seat across from him. He stared at Leonard, something disbelieving in his eyes. Leonard waited for him to speak, but Mick just stared, gaze darting across Leonard's face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Leonard asked, suppressing his frown.

"Wasn't sure you'd seen what was going on." Mick's gaze moved around the room pointedly before returning to Leonard.

Leonard rolled his eyes. "It's the job."

He knew exactly what Mick was referring to. Sara, over by the bar, flirting quite successfully with their mark for the evening. The man, Roger Caspen, had gotten ahold of part of Savage's timeship and they needed to get it out of his hands before he passed it along to someone who actually knew something. Caspen had his hand on Sara's wrist as she laughed at something he said. Even from here, Leonard could tell it was fake.

"He's getting a little close," Mick observed, the annoyed growl proving more than anything else that Mick was truly a part of this crew again. In the past year, since the explosion of the Oculus and Savage's deaths, he looked out for Sara almost as much as he looked out for Leonard, though his help wasn't needed quite as often for the blonde.

"Tell me," Leonard said, leaning forward, "what can I do to him that Sara wouldn't be able to do herself?"

Mick raised his brows and nodded at that. "Good point."

"When she needs us, she'll let us know."

His grin turning wicked, Mick said, "Any other plans for this evening?"

"I already told you, it's not like that." Leonard was unable to help the chill that clipped his words. Mick took no offense, relaxing in his chair.

"Seems like it."

"It's not."

"Why here?"

The Saints and Sinners wasn't the nicest establishment, that's for sure. But when Rip told them what they needed to get, and where and when it was, it seemed too perfect to pass up.

"Because it matters," Leonard said. He glanced at his watch, tracking the time.

As Roger turned to order a drink, Sara caught Leonard's eye and smiled slightly, jerking her head infinitesimally. With a smirk, Leonard stood. "Excuse me."

He approached the bar slowly, coming up on the opposite side of Sara, ordering a drink. Her companion left, excusing himself to go to the bathroom, and the second he was out of sight, Sara turned to him with an annoyed face.

"I've got it, can we go now?" she asked.

Leonard smirked at her frustration, taking the piece of the timeship she handed to him. Her lips were turned down in a scowl and the dress was far fancier and more revealing than anything she usually chose to wear. Her makeup was heavy, a mask in its own right. But beneath it all, he could see her. His Sara.

He pocketed the piece, but kept his hand in there, not returning to his seat. Instead, he traced his finger along the inside of her wrist. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Wednesday?" she asked. Amazing how they'd been together for a year since the Oculus exploded and a single touch of his could still make her eyes go darker.

"Thursday, actually," he corrected. "December 3rd."

There was a hint of understanding in her eyes, but he kept going. He glanced over to where Mick was sitting, drinking his beer. "Five years ago today, in this timeline at least, in this very bar, you came up to me. Said you needed one hell of a thief."

She smiled, glancing over at the seats they had and hadn't occupied five years ago, depending on the timeline.

"Lucked out and got me, instead," he said.

Sara softened as she looked at him, turning her hand so their fingers were intertwined. "I was lucky."

"Destined?"

"Oh, don't start," she said, her eyes rolling with a grin.

"Can't argue facts," he murmured. "Three times I've met you. Sometimes knowing you, sometimes not. And three times, we ended up together. Or on our way." Fidgeting with his pocket, he said, "Makes you at least think consider it."

"Destiny makes it sound like we did nothing, though," she argued good-naturedly. "Getting here took hard work. Effort. Commitment. We're together because we want to be, not because something else told us to be."

"Glad to hear it." Leonard pulled out a silver ring from his pocket and held it out to her. It was a claddagh ring where the heart had been crafted into a small cage to hold a single stone. A small, imperfect sapphire. The one she'd stolen.

Her eyes widened briefly, then darted back up to his face. "I didn't think you were that traditional."

"I'm not. This isn't a proposal."

Her brow arched, but the smile smoothed away into something more comfortable. "Then what is it?"

"A promise. If you'd like."

She grinned, leaning towards him. "What kind of promise?"

"Me and you."

She glanced down at the ring again, her eyes dancing.

"How about it, birdy?" he asked quietly, pretending this wasn't the most important question of his life. Any of his lives.

The smile spreading across her face was answer enough, but he would have liked to hear what she was about to say. Instead, from behind him, he heard-

"That bitch robbed me!"

Pocketing the ring, Leonard turned in time to see Caspen coming at them, his fists clenched and face furious. Standing, Leonard heard Sara shifting behind him, watching his back. Shoulders tense, Leonard prepared himself.

Only to have Mick step in and knock out their mark with a single punch. Caspen dropped. Hard.

The echo of his fall was, for a moment, the only sound in the Saints and Sinners.

Then, as in all good slum bars, all hell broke loose.

Leonard, Sara, and Mick threw themselves into the fray with pleasure, taking far fewer punches than they gave. Leonard made sure the device was secure in his pocket, but he enjoyed the fight.

Actually, he enjoyed being with his friends in the fight.

Home wasn't really a thing that Leonard ever had. A literal house, yes. But a home - not so much. There was never that loving, caring, safe place in his past, at least not like others had described.

But this, right now, felt like home.

It wasn't a loving, caring, or safe place, that was for damn sure. Not with bar stools coming at his head or broken beer bottles being brandished.

However, Mick stood behind him, watching his back and making himself available to talk if Leonard wanted to. He kept an eye out for Sara, concerned about her well-being.

Sara was next to him, keeping him safe, saving him over and over again. Even before he knew her, she was watching out for him, because she loved him.

He didn't have a physical home. He might never. That was fine by him. Because regardless, he did have one.

It was right here. Between Sara and Mick, in the middle of a fight.

There was a breath in the brawl, between the flying stools and the shattered glass, and Leonard grabbed Sara's arm, needing an answer. Needing to know the path of his future.

Needing her.

"Sara."

She grinned, her cheeks flushed from the adrenaline and her hair in disarray. Dangerous and beautiful. "I'll take that promise, crook."

"This'll be one hell of a story to tell your kids," Mick said from behind them. He took a step towards a man who was glaring at the trio, making him reconsider attacking them.

Sara laughed and smiled at Mick, as Leonard took out the ring from his pocket and took her head. Holding it up, he let Sara read the small inscription on the inside. She grinned at him and he slid it onto her finger.

"Love you, birdy."

Grabbing his jacket, Sara pulled him close and kissed him as the rest of the bar - the world, for all he cared - was in turmoil. Leonard wrapped his arms around her, knowing instinctively that Mick would keep them safe for the moment.

Because this was his home.

"I love you, too." Sara pulled away from him, her eyes dancing. "I hope this is durable," she whispered against his lips.

"I can always steal you a new one."

She laughed, "Let's get out of here."

"Mick," Leonard said, "make a path."

"Got it. Blondie, on my right," Mick said, rolling his shoulders as he turned towards the door.

Sara glanced at Leonard, "Watch my back?"

"Promise."

She caught the reference and wiggled the hand with the ring on it, smiling at him as she started forward.

Leonard fell into step behind them, watching their backs whether it be from a bar fight or Time Masters, past, present, or future.

He fought tooth and nail to get here, and he'd be damned if anyone tried to take his home away from him.

 _I promise._

* * *

 _ **I can't believe it's over! :(**_

 _ **Thank you for commenting and favoriting. I've treasured each one and they kept me going when I didn't want to. This fandom is so fantastic, I'm glad I get to be a part of it.**_

 _ **As always, thanks for reading.**_

 _ **Now I have to start something new...**_


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